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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561179">There Are Dangerous Things In These Woods</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stiless__halee/pseuds/stiless__halee'>stiless__halee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Derek solves a mystery, F/F, F/M, Human Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Human Stiles Stilinski, Humans are extinct, Hurt/Comfort, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Murder Mystery, Werejaguar Kate Argent, Werewolf Chris Argent, the Argents suck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:14:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stiless__halee/pseuds/stiless__halee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months after a fire kills Derek's family and fiancé, his uncle goes insane, killing Laura and leaving Derek alone in the world. As Derek struggles to manage his grief while adjusting to his new position as the alpha of a misfit pack, he begins to realize his uncle wasn't as crazy as he seemed. </p><p>The notes Peter leaves behind following his death suggest the Hale fire wasn't an accident. Derek's determined to uncover the truth, and every clue Peter has left behind seems to be pointing to a mysterious plot of land behind the Hale House and the strange, beautiful shifter who lives there.</p><p>*****<br/>Stiles appears in chapter 5</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale &amp; Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>146</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Smoke fills the air, suffocating Peter’s lungs and stinging his eyes. Beneath him, he can hear the screams of his family.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cellar. They’re in the cellar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lunges for the basement door even though he already knows how this story ends. The wood feels hot beneath his palms, yet he pushes against it, pushes through the pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pair of hands grab him. They wrench him from the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he yells. He thinks he yells at least. He feels like the flames have crawled down his throat, burning his tongue, vocal cords and lungs with every inhale.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stumbles backward. His balance is thrown off by the hands of the officer who’s dragging him outside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is the part where he falls out of his bed, legs tangled in the suffocating embrace of his sweat covered, silk sheets. Muscle memory kicks in, from the nonstop weeks of reliving the same nightmare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hands don’t hit his hardwood floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They land on damp earth and half decayed leaves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter coughs out dirt. His stomach churns from the phantom smell of smoke that’s still lingering in his nostrils.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cold pizza he had for dinner fights its way back up his throat, and tears well in his eyes as he heaves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he’s done, he staggers to his feet. He’s past the boundaries of the preserve, and he feels unanchored by the sudden knowledge that he’s past the safety of Hale land and deep in unfamiliar territory. He tilts his head back and discovers that the stars have been blotted out by the thick canopy of trees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smell of ozone fills his nostrils. It’s so powerful that it drowns out the natural scent of the forest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Panic swells in Peter’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No..” he drops his fangs. His eyes blink gold as they strain to see through the darkness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had been out here a week ago, maybe. Following some fragmented clues and trying to discover the truth about the land behind the preserve. He remembers this smell, the shadows that moved, and the magic that tried to stop his heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter swore he would never return.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I must be dreaming,” he mutters. He anchors himself to the phrase, lets it hold him steady so the current of panic doesn’t whisk him away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His shoulder jerks to the side. He can feel his body rotate, his back slam into a tree. Pain blooms in the joint and when he turns his head, he sees the feathered end of an arrow sticking out from his shoulder. He reaches to snap the end off. The wood burns the tips of his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wolfsbane.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the distance, he can hear a second arrow notch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring the pain, Peter snaps the arrow stuck in his shoulder. He dives to the side as another arrow lands in the trunk. He leaps to his feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not sure where he’s running except that it’s in the opposite direction of where the arrows are coming from.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His bare feet cause him to stumble as he fights his way through the foreign land, and the cotton of his pajama pants snag on every branch he passes. In the preserve, the land was his ally. It hid his scent. Paths opened up to him whenever he needed a quick escape. Here, outside of Hale territory, the earth is working against him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An arrow whizzes past his left ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter takes a sharp right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His stomach drops as he comes upon a familiar stretch of trees. He sees the thick tree with an arrow sticking out of it and a dark stain from where someone’s – no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> – blood has sunk into the wood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How did he get back here? How did–?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An arrow sinks into the thigh. The sudden pain, somehow worse this time, tears a roar from his throat. If he’s still close to Hale land, close to Beacon Hills, then his alpha should hear him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A figure emerges from the trees, a bow and arrow aimed at his heart. Its face is hidden behind a wooden mask, carved to resemble a snarling wolf. The person smells of sweat and wolfsbane. A second figure steps out of the trees, behind Peter. He whirls around shocked that someone managed to sneak behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The figure opens its palm to reveal a purple powder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It lifts its mask and Peter sucks in a breath, the wolfsbane and weapons making a sick and sudden sense to him. The magic that had been toying with him in these woods hadn’t belonged to the earth. It belonged to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had been scared earlier, terrified even. But he’s a wolf, a predator. They’re nothing more than prey.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl blows the powder at him, but he’s already moving. The bulk of the wolfsbane misses him, but some hits the back of his throat and stings his eyes. He swipes at the girl, and the human behind him yells something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another arrow whizzes at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter catches it, snapping it between his fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl opens her mouth, and a scream erupts. His eardrums burst and his eyes water. The pain is all consuming. He staggers backward. It’s as if the sound waves coming out of her mouth are strong enough to move his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Flicking his wrist, he hurls the broken arrow at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It slices through the soft meat of her throat. Blood gushes out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The person still hiding behind its mask, lunges at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A curved blade that Peter didn’t notice earlier catches him in the ribs. More wolfsbane.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter swings his hand, claws still extended. His movements are sluggish now, and the human darts under his swing and slices him again from his hip to his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter swings again. This time he gets lucky. He slices open the person’s gut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter staggers away, not turning to watch his attacker hit the ground. His vision is already swimming. Amber mixes with black. His wounds are knitting themselves back together at a glacial pace. He can feel the wolfsbane burning its way through his veins. Each movement brings the flames closer and closer to his heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he refuses to die in these unfamiliar woods. He won’t let those </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretend</span>
  </em>
  <span> wolves take him from what little pack he has left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He almost sags in relief when he crosses back into the familiar landscape of Hale land. His vision is so far gone that he can’t make out many shapes in the darkness, but he can feel the familiarity of it. He’s spent a lifetime in the preserve. He can identify the Hale land by smell and feeling alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind him, there’s a rustle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A growl forms in his throat, and with a guttural yell, he turns on his heel. His anger washes over him. It drives his body forward leading him towards the figure creeping behind him. His claws sink into the meat of whoever was foolish enough to pursue him back into his territory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can feel the soft belly of his pursuer part like butter beneath his claws. The body crumples and his lips curl upwards at the sound of intestines splattering against the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks and his vision clears. Amber melts into red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter looks down. His breath leaves him when he recognizes the face of the girl he helped raise staring up at him. Her face is twisted into a permanent look of shock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Laura,” he whimpers. He can feel their pack bond withering as she twitches in the dirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Laura.. I didn’t know. I didn’t know.” he cries. He tries gathering her into his arms, desperate to take her pain, but her heartbeat is already gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How many times can a man fail his pack?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter tips his head back. He pours his grief and his anger into one long howl. The wail is a mourning cry for his alpha who he was supposed to protect. It’s a promise that the people responsible for his pack members’ deaths will meet an end just as bloody.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound fills the preserve and reaches the deepest parts of Beacon. It sinks into his soul and reverberates down the one pack bond he has left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In New York, his nephew dreams of fire and earth.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Derek sits on the back step of what was once his family home. He rests his elbows on his knees and lifts a half-smoked, wolfsbane cigarette to his lips. Beneath the lingering smell of ash and decay, Laura’s familiar scent hangs in the air. It’s a remnant of the night she spent here before she went into the preserve looking for the rogue omega who turned out to be their uncle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shudder ripples through Derek’s body as his emotions swirl in his gut. He can feel his eyes flash between hazel and red. Hazel and red. Hazel and red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sucks harder on the cigarette. The smoke fills his lungs. He needs to cough, but he fights down the urge. He forces himself to hold it in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is what his family felt the night they died.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek sputters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushes himself to his feet, ignoring the way the world around him is tinted red. He flicks his cigarette down on the driveway and crushes it under his foot before taking off into the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sprints forward, leaping over a fallen log as the shift washes over him. There’s a shudder, a vibration that echoes down into every cell in his body then he’s landing on his paws.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t let himself enjoy the freedom of shifting like this too often. He feels too close to Laura and to his mother, when he’s in this form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek runs faster. He focuses on the burn in his chest instead of the memories rattling around his skull.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He arrives at the edge of Hale territory faster than he expected. He stands at that invisible border where the preserve ends, hesitant to cross over it. Beyond the boundary, the trees grow thicker and the earth smells older.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laura crossed over this boundary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Peter tore her in half.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of Derek wonders what happened to Peter out here. Something bent his uncle’s mind until it snapped. The Peter he knew wouldn’t have killed Laura for the alpha power.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lifts a paw. It hovers in the air between Hale territory and this uncharted land. He takes a steadying breath then steps down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bird chirps in the distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No need to panic. He’s alone out here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek presses forward. The air shifts around him, smelling the way he imagines the earth smelled before oil, metal, and smog clogged up the air. He relishes in the freshness of it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s gone a few miles past the boundary when he notices the darkness that settles around him. He feels something calling to his wolf, pulling at him in a way that only the moon has. It’s dizzying and intoxicating. He wants to keep walking and let his feet carry him further south. He could walk across California and well into Mexico if this feeling led him there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops. He can’t abandon his pack again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek turns around, ready to return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air shifts again. It smells like a storm is coming, like rainwater and lightning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of Derek’s eye, he sees movement. A shadow bends in the dim light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek turns towards it, but the creature– if there ever was one– is gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heart thumping in his chest, Derek runs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>ooo000ooo</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek climbs into his loft from the fire escape. The building has only a handful of residents, so no one is around to call the cops on the naked man shimmying into a half open window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The satisfaction of sneaking into his loft without anyone seeing his bare ass is short lived when he sees Boyd sitting on the sofa, a cup of green tea in his hands. Derek doesn’t groan like he wants to, instead he plasters a smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t grimace at me,” Boyd says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek huffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erica and I were waiting for you. It’s pizza night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had something come up,” Derek lies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd knows he’s lying. He can hear Derek’s stuttering heartbeat as well as any other shifter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tries to step past the sofa to get to his bed, but Boyd, despite his size, is quick. He blocks Derek’s way with a look on his face that let’s the alpha know that he won’t get out of this conversation as easily as he wants to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I agreed with Erica and Isaac when they said that you need some space. But damn it, Derek, I’m putting my foot down,” Boyd says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushes Derek in the chest, manhandling him onto the sofa. He tosses his alpha a blanket as an afterthought. While Boyd, like most other shifters, has a blasé attitude towards nudity, Derek respects the fact that his beta always remembers how vulnerable it makes Derek feel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shame hits him as he looks up at Boyd, who’s standing in front of him with arms crossed. An alpha being manhandled by his beta. It’d be pitiful if anyone could see him right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talk to me, Derek,” Boyd says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words are like a kick to the face. They’re the last words Derek had ever said to Laura. He whispered them through the phone, feeling homesick in his New York apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talk to me,” he had whispered, his voice traveling the thousands of miles it needed to reach her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think something is wrong with Peter,” Laura replied in a voice so low he could barely hear her through the receiver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd’s hand lands on Derek’s knee. The touch pulls Derek out of his memories. A drop of water lands on the back of Boyd’s hand, and Derek is embarrassed to realize that it came from him. He’s crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tugs his knee from Boyd’s touch and scoots further down the sofa so there’s more space between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An alpha supports their pack, but a pack supports their alpha as well,” Boyd reminds him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pushes himself to his feet. He uses one hand to hold the blanket around his waist and the other to wipe at his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m tired,” Derek says. “Why don’t you come over tomorrow? Bring Erica and Isaac. I’ll make up for tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves without seeing Boyd’s reaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next morning, he drives to Peter’s apartment. He spends half an hour standing in front of his uncle’s door holding the key in his fist so tightly the edges of the metal leave indents in his palms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike Derek’s barren loft, Peter had a lavish place to return to at the end of long days. A penthouse on the rich side of town with rent so high it would’ve made more sense to pay the same amount of money for a mortgage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s been two months since Peter’s death, and Derek has spent that entire time avoiding this moment. Hell, when was the last time he had even visited Peter’s apartment? Ten months ago? Before the fire and before he ran to New York with his tail between his legs, abandoning his alpha so she could confront Peter alone and–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek thrusts his key into the door before his thoughts can continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside the air is stale, but it smells like Uncle Peter. Traces of his Burberry cologne linger in the hallway as if it was sprayed yesterday. It’s easy to imagine Peter walking in the door behind him. That playful smile would be on his face as he jostles his nephew’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you ever knock?” he would joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you gave me a key,” Derek responds to the empty air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steps further into the apartment. Everything is in order. The throw pillows on the sofa are fluffed. The carpet looks like it’s just been vacuumed. Peter’s damn DVD collection is even in alphabetical order.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek drags a hand across the back of Peter’s suede sofa. He can’t even make it past his uncle’s living room, but somehow he’s supposed to box up all this stuff and throw it in storage or drop it off at Goodwill or whatever it is people do when family members go insane and die in the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He crosses into the kitchen. Curious, he opens the cabinets. There aren’t any plates, cups or bowls. Even the drawers are empty. No spoons, forks,  or knives. Derek isn’t surprised. Peter was a traditional wolf. He would’ve eaten every dinner with his alpha at her house. Plus, he was an awful cook. Derek’s sure his uncle bought every meal Laura didn’t make him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of Laura and Derek huddled over her small kitchen table eating chicken parm makes his throat tighten. Peter adored Laura. He was a loyal beta, bowing to Derek’s mother then sister without complaint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s eyes drift over to the living room again. He remembers nights as an angsty teen, sleeping on Peter’s sofa when he was frustrated with his parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to you?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wishes Peter were here to answer him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moves into the bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This room looks like it belongs to a different man. The bed sheets are rumpled. The comforter and pillows are thrown onto a heap on the floor. Dirty clothes peek up at Derek from the closet floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s desk is covered in papers and books filled with scribbles and half written thoughts. Derek steps closer curious to see what his uncle had been writing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Certain passages have been highlighted. Others have been underlined multiple times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curious, Derek lifts a book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A HISTORY OF MAGIC CONDENSED.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek turns the book over in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magic?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the magic, all the useful magic at least, disappeared when the last of the humans died, centuries ago. Humans were the creatures who had been given the gift of manipulating magic. Peter says it was the universe’s way of keeping things in balance. Shifters got the strength, speed, and healing. Humans got the magic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nowadays there were only two kinds of people who had an interest in magic like this: emissaries who keep the history alive and crazy, conspiracy theorists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s face flashes in Derek’s mind. It’s not the loving uncle he imagined earlier. This one is the feral and deformed wolf who murdered Derek’s sister.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tries to shake the image loose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t recognized his uncle in that form. Peter had been muttering or growling. The nonsensical sounds that escaped his lips didn’t form any coherent words or sentences. For a second, Derek thought he saw recognition in Peter’s eyes. Then he–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek sucks in a shaky breath. Frustrated, he uses the heel of his palm to wipe away his tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needs to leave this apartment. He can clean another day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns around and sees a large cork board taking up most of the space on the far wall. It’s a bastardized version of a police investigation board. In the center is a picture of the Hale house. Not the charred ruins that Derek visits on his low days. This is a photo of the house in all its glory with cream colored paneling, gray shutters, a porch swing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sight of it knocks the wind out of Derek. His next inhale sounds like a high pitched whine. The photo of his childhood home is covered by criss-crossing red strings that lead to a crest of some sort, a photo of the old fire marshal, and Derek’s high school chemistry teacher. There’s another photo that makes Derek’s stomach roll.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reaches out and snatches it off the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek hasn’t seen her since the fire, ten months ago. He’s been avoiding looking at photos of her, trying to scrub her memory from his brain like a stubborn stain. Still, every detail of her face is unforgettable to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at the photo. Where it once hung, there’s a red string connecting her to Harris, to the crest, and to his family home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Individually, each photo makes sense. Together, Derek can’t seem to fit them together. His fiancé, Kate, burned with the rest of his family. Harris was an asshole teacher, but aside from the high school classes, he had never interacted with any of the Hales. And Derek didn’t even know what to think of the strange crest that was floating near the place where Kate’s photo was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Peter felt these things were connected. He linked them together, each piece connecting to Kate or the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s eyes go to a less crowded part of the board. A piece of notebook paper with the same question scribbled across it that Derek had asked himself only moments ago: Magic?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Boyd and Erica sit on the love seat in Derek’s apartment. Boyd’s arm stretches across Erica’s back and her head rests on his shoulder. Their ankles cross each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac is sprawled on the floor as if there isn’t an expensive sofa two feet away from him. His snores almost convince Derek that the floor is just as comfortable as the thousand dollar couch he bought on impulse from an overpriced furniture store.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tries to focus on the TV screen. The characters are moving their lips in an imitation of a lovers’ quarrel. It’s trite and the acting is bad and it fails to hold his attention for longer than a few seconds. He glances at his bedroom door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tired?” Boyd asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shakes his head. He tries to get back into the movie, but he can’t remember which character is the love interest he’s supposed to be rooting for and which is the asshole he wants the girl to dump. If his knowledge of stereotypical rom-coms is still up to date, then the shifter who says she calls to him like the moon is the one who’ll get the girl in the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wishes he didn’t let Erica pick the movie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one’s judging you if you need to crash,” Boyd says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to miss the good part,” Derek says. He waves a hand at the screen where two of the characters are now kissing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The best part is when the ex-boyfriend crashes their wedding,” Boyd responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lifts an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon man don’t judge. This is Erica’s favorite movie,” he defends himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica, who for a moment looked as if she was seconds away from sleep, tosses Derek a grin that’s all teeth. “It’s a good story. Besides, Derek is the one who owns the DVD?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah man. Where did you even find a DVD? It’s 2021, get Netflix,” Boyd jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was in my uncle’s things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica sits up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You went by Peter’s place?” she asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She and Boyd exchange a look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek should’ve stayed quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just to move some things out,” he says. He leaves out the part where he discovered his uncle’s conspiracy theory filled bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do that alone,” Erica says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek smiles. He’s grateful that his pack cares about him enough to offer some help even though he knows that he’d rather go through his Peter’s stuff alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes drift over to his bedroom door again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright we get the hint,” Boyd says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them get to their feet. They grab their things and even turn the TV off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need rest,” Erica says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She holds her arms out and Derek steps forward to give her a hug. With one hand, he traces the shell of her ear, dips down to her neck, then brings it back up to cup her cheek. It’s a wolf instinct to scent his pack, and it’s gotten stronger now that he’s an alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives Boyd the same treatment. When they separate, Boyd tilts his head towards Isaac’s sleeping body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want us to take him again?” Boyd asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question is harmless enough, but the guilt still rocks Derek in his core. He took Isaac into the pack to get him out of a bad home situation. As the pup’s alpha, he’s supposed to be the primary caregiver with Erica and Boyd helping out. Instead, his inability to be a competent leader led to Isaac staying with the couple for most of the week while Derek lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and chain smoking packs of Laura’s favorite wolfsbane cigarettes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll drop him off in the morning,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walks his pack mates to the door, watching them as they get into the elevator. Then, he lifts Isaac onto the sofa and tosses a throw blanket over the wolf’s form. Only teenagers and children can sleep anywhere and wake up without feeling cricks in their necks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he’s satisfied Isaac is comfortable, he begins his perimeter check. Walking past the front door to test its lock before doing the same with each window. After two rounds, he steps into his bedroom and shuts the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s books are piled up on Derek’s bed. On one of the walls, he’s recreated the investigation board that was in his uncle’s bedroom. He stands in front of it trying to see what his uncle saw, trying to understand how the pieces connect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek eyes the piece of paper with Magic? written on it. When he leans in close, he can see the faint indent of the word Earth written above it. It’s faded now as if someone wrote the word down then erased it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Earth magic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek turns to the pile of books. There are papers stuffed inside of some of those as well. Each scrap is filled with writing that’s dated and referencing other related and sometimes not-so-related topics: A MAGICAL HISTORY OF BEACON HILLS essay, a map of northern California and its territories, and another map of just the Hale land and a couple surrounding territories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the map of the Hale land, Peter has outlined the borders with a yellow highlighter. At the southernmost part of the border, there’s a small red circle that’s been made with a chunky red marker. A horseshoe shaped outline marks the area where the Hale territory curves around the red circle. To the south of the circle is a river, known for its rough currents and unpredictable tides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter chose an interesting patch of land. It couldn’t be reached on the river side without a large boat, which has been outlawed in this area due to the high number of endangered species living in the water. If anyone wanted to go exploring there, they had to cut through the heart of Hale territory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek takes a finger and traces a path from the Hale house to Peter’s crude circle. It isn’t too far from where Derek had found his uncle and where Derek had wandered yesterday when he was supposed to be at pizza night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, he wonders if Peter’s insanity started before his uncle’s trip into the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek sighs. He can’t begin to understand Peter’s connection with the woods or with earth magic or even with his dead fiancé. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> understand the Hale house, and the event that led to it being center of Peter’s investigation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Derek is going to make sense of his uncle’s madness, then he needs to start at the beginning, with the fire.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Derek stares at the yellow manila folder that he found buried between two hefty books. It’s a case file marked HALE 2020, and Derek wishes now more than ever that his uncle could be here so he could ask him how he got his hands on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A magician never reveals his tricks,” Peter would respond without missing a beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fire marshal wrote that the fire was an accident, caused by a campfire that hadn’t been put out all the way before the Hales made their way to bed for the night. Derek tries to remember the night his family died. He can’t remember everything they did that night. He remembers that it was odd that everyone was home at once. With a family so big, it was hard to gather everyone in one spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, they had gathered because Kate and Derek called them, because they heard the two were engaged and wanted to celebrate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembers his mom hugging him, her whispering, “I’m so proud of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembers sneaking out of the house late at night with Laura to break into the community pool like old times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembers feeling his pack bonds break, and how Laura turned to look at him with red eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek forces himself to look down at the fire marshal’s notes. For the first time, he learns the details of the fire.</span>
</p><p> </p><ul>
<li><em><span>Bodies found in basement</span></em></li>
</ul><ul>
<li><span>No locked doors-- no survivors-- sleeping?</span></li>
</ul><ul>
<li><span>No signs of forced entry</span></li>
</ul><ul>
<li>
<span>Peter says he broke down the door </span><span>after</span><span> the fire started</span>
</li>
</ul><ul>
<li><span>Traces of wolfsbane</span></li>
</ul><ul>

</ul><p> </p><p>
  <span>The writing that followed the last bullet point has been erased. It’s been so long since the notes were written that Derek can’t even make out what the words might’ve said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks instead at the second to last bullet point. Wolfsbane. It’s not uncommon for wolfsbane to be in shifters’ houses. Nowadays, it was infused in everything: alcohol, cigarettes, weed and countless other products. The oils from a mild strain could get shifters drunk or high in a way that wolfsbane-free products couldn’t. Everyone over the age of 21 owned something with wolfsbane in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reads his way back up the list, pausing at the top. Bodies found in basement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock on the door causes Derek to jump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Isaac says. He must’ve heard Derek’s heartbeat spike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, the pup had scared the living shit out of him. He forgot that Isaac had crashed on his sofa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shoves the papers back into the folder then stuffs it under his bed with a bunch of Peter’s other books. He moves the clothing rack that serves as his closet in front of the investigation board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming,” Derek yells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wrenches open the door hoping he doesn’t smell as stressed as he feels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to leave,” Isaac says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” Isaac adds when Derek doesn’t speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time is it?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s 8:30,” Isaac responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek blinks. Isaac could sleep until noon on a good day. He doesn’t understand what made the kid wake up so early today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have class,” Isaac adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Derek says. “Shit, I forgot. Just let me...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabs a jacket off his clothing rack at random and tosses it over his shoulders. He walks Isaac out, and the pup must’ve expected Derek to just be walking him to the door because he looks surprised when Derek locks up the loft and follows him to the elevator. Derek wonders if he should feel ashamed by that. Unlike the natural bond, he, Boyd and Erica have from years of friendship, his relationship with Isaac feels more stilted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can walk myself to the bus. I still have half an hour,” Isaac says when they emerge from Derek’s apartment building. The poor pup is starting to smell more nervous the longer they’re around each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll drive you,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must be an awful alpha if this is how his pup is acting around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talia had raised Laura to be her replacement, teaching his sister how to handle the responsibilities that come with having red eyes. The position was never meant to be Derek’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, he wants to do this right. Laura never had the chance to be a good alpha, and Peter went mad after prying that power from Laura’s dead body. Now, there’s just Derek. The alpha of a pack that’s too small to carry the enormous legacy that comes attached to the Hale surname.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s determined to live up to that legacy somehow. He’ll be the alpha Laura couldn’t be, and he’ll decipher that puzzle that Peter left behind. He owes them that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have lunch money?” Derek asks once they’re in the car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he were like Erica, he would’ve had a bagged lunch with Isaac’s favorite foods. Derek doesn’t even know Isaac’s favorite food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erica gives me leftovers usually,” Isaac says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t planning on sleeping over,” he adds in a rush, the sentence sounding like an apology.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek digs in his wallet then hands Isaac a crumpled ten dollar bill. The kid looks at the cash then looks back at Derek. He seems unsure of what to do. Derek could laugh if he wasn’t feeling the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac grabs the cash before the situation gets too awkward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them speak again until Derek is pulling into Beacon Hills High’s parking lot. A few students gape at him as he eases the Camaro up the sidewalk. In a town as small as this one, his car stands out like a sore thumb. The Hale pack might not be as big as it was a year ago, but the land and legacy are still his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for the ride,” Isaac says. He’s slouching down in his seat as if it will prevent kids from staring or guessing who’s inside the car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be here to pick you up around 3 o’clock,” Derek responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac’s mouth falls open, and Derek uses every ounce of his self control to not roll his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to catch flies,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac flushes, “I’ll see you later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steps out of the car and pulls his scarf closer around his face. A few kids gape at him, their eyes flitting between the car and Isaac. He ignores them and keeps his eyes fixed on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek waits until he’s inside of the building before leaving. He drives towards the preserve. Now that he’s away from the high school, he can’t stop thinking about the picture of his old chemistry  teacher hanging on Peter’s investigation board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house looks the same as it did yesterday. Burnt. Hollowed out. Decayed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can’t look away from it. His stomach churns, and the fire marshal’s words drift through his mind: </span>
  <em>
    <span>bodies found in basement</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There’s a lot he doesn’t remember about that night. The memories of it are fragmented, existing in his mind as a once unified continent that has drifted apart, forming separate islands that can no longer be linked together. He remembers sneaking out of the house with Laura. Everyone was asleep in their beds when they left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s hands shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trembling, he digs in his pocket for his box of cigarettes. Within moments, he’s sucking in a lungful of smoke. He stares at the charred remains of the house’s front steps, so he doesn’t have to see the way the stick of tobacco shakes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes up the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His next pull of the cigarette is so hard that his cheeks hollow out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He exhales smoke as he presses his hands against the worn down wood of what was once the front door of the house. It’s hanging on its hinges from when Peter knocked it down on the night of the fire. Derek’s fingers flex and the door creaks open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inside of the house is even more charred than the outside. Still, the image of the house before the fire comes to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks to his left and can see the large yellow sofa that he and his cousins used to dogpile on while watching TV. He tilts his head back and imagines the chandelier that was a wedding gift to his mother from Satomi, an alpha whose land was on their northern border.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek walks through the shell of the house. The furniture is gone. The fire burned so hot that everything had turned to ash. The walls are black and soot covered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He crosses into the kitchen where Laura and Talia would discuss alpha business while cooking family dinners. Another right turn and he’s at the basement door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least, it's where the door would be if it hadn’t crumbled away to ash like so many other things in the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His family died down there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek steps forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something collides with his nose. Blood gushes from his face, coating the front of his shirt. He curses, a hand flying to cradle his face as he staggers backwards. He uses his other hand to swipe out. He’s half expecting an attacker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wrenches his eyes open. He’s surprised to realize that he’s alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the–” he steps forward again and his chest collides with something again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek huffs. He can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything in front of him, but it feels as though there’s a wall preventing him from entering the basement. He stubs his cigarette out on the door jamb then lifts both his hands. He approaches the basement with slow and cautious steps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he reaches the threshold, his hands meet resistance. They’re resting flat against an invisible surface. He pushes forward but whatever is stopping him won’t budge. He grits his teeth and pushes harder. The air around his fingertips starts to glow blue. Fat beads of sweat roll down the sides of his face. For a second, he can feel the barrier start to give beneath his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he’s flying backwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His back slams into the kitchen wall. The wind rushes out of his lungs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stands there for a moment sucking in large gasps of air. Once his breathing starts to return to normal, he climbs to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needs another cigarette. There isn’t anything that can explain what just happened to him except magic. But magic doesn’t exist anymore. It’s extinct, yet somehow it was in his house, and it kept his family trapped in the basement during the fire that burned down their home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s investigation board is starting to make a sick sort of sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If magic kept his family trapped, then someone used it. Someone purposefully locked them down there and then lit the house on fire, and Peter died before he could figure out who did it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek emerges from the house covered in ash. He fights back the panic that’s threatening to overtake him and lets his feet lead him into the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s following the path he took two months ago when he was hunting down the feral wolf who killed his sister. He wonders in this crazy timeline of events, if there’s an alternate universe where his family is still alive and they make it out of the fire before it’s too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really needs that cigarette.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he gets closer to the edge of the Hale territory, he feels his hairs stand on edge. Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees a shadow move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, he hopes Peter’s insanity hasn’t transferred over to him with the alpha power.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek stops walking when he thinks he’s reached the spot where he found his uncle. He doesn’t remember the exact spot. At the time, he had been too busy thinking about revenge. All the anger and bloodlust had evaporated when he realized the feral omega–no, the feral alpha– was the same man who taught him how to ride a bike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter didn’t even recognize his nephew. His eyes were unseeing as he stumbled around mumbling gibberish. In the end, it was a mercy killing. He’s not entirely sure if Peter had even realized Derek was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek kneels down so he can touch the earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tha-thump</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek whips his head around. There’s a flash of black. Derek turns towards the movement, his whole body on alert. The figure is quick, but Derek is quicker. He sees the form of another shifter as it leaps over a log.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Derek yells</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes off after them. The figure is a few feet away, but they’re slower than Derek. Within seconds, Derek’s fingers latch onto the shifter’s back. With a tug, he sends the both of them crashing to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s stomach drops when he comes face to face with a wooden, wolf mask instead of a face. Frustrated, he flicks the atrocity off of the shifter’s face only to feel the tip of something sharp press against his jugular.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tenses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Using a knife is a dirty trick,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shifters fight with claws and teeth. The strongest one wins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup beneath him grins as he presses the knife closer to Derek’s neck. The sparkle in eyes suggests he has the upper hand despite the press of Derek’s claws against his bony side. His pale skin stands out against the black animal furs he’s wearing, and for an absurd moment, Derek wants to flick his upturned nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup jeez, he can’t be much older than Isaac– says something. The words sound weird as if he’s speaking a language that’s not quite English.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could kill you,” the shifter says. He has a cute accent. It almost distracts Derek from the murder threat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek scoffs the action making his adam apple bob against the knife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought about it,” the shifter continues. His brown eyes lock on Derek’s. They look playful as if he’s used to making death threats while pinned beneath someone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You thought about it?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup nods his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought about it yesterday when you were a wolf,” the pup elaborates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek thinks about the shifting shadows he saw. He wasn’t going insane then. That’s always good to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances back down at the pup. Somehow, knowing that he could’ve killed Derek yesterday, but didn’t, takes the heat out of their interaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lets his claws retract until his blunt fingertips are gripping the pup’s waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup hesitates, and for a second, Derek thinks the strange shifter is going to drag the blade across his neck. Instead, the pup shifts his grip. The change gives Derek enough room to shimmy back far enough to allow the pup to sit up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he does, their noses bump. Derek flushes, and the shifter scoots back a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t from Beacon Hills,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets a head tilt in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is your pack nearby?” Derek asks. He doesn’t want the pup to know that if his pack </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> nearby then they’re trespassing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup’s mouth splits open in a wide grin as if he knows something that Derek doesn’t. He takes his hand and drags it down the length of Derek’s cheek. His fingers catch on the stubble and Derek hears the pup’s heartbeat pick up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek grabs the kid’s hand to stop him. The last thing he needs is for his pack to wonder what random shifter decided to scent their alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Stiles,” the shifter says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles nods his hand. He pulls his hand back. The action lets his sleeve ride up far enough for Derek to catch a glimpse of a tattoo. Derek wants to look at it and see if the marking is a pack symbol, but Stiles is already on his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the knife no longer pressing against his neck, Derek takes a moment to look at Stiles, to really look at him. The kid is wearing all black with a deer fur tossed over his shoulders like a makeshift jacket. On his back are a quiver of arrows and a bow, which he checks for damage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lifts an eyebrow. If a knife is weird, a bow and arrow are downright perplexing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks at the sky, muttering in that strange language of his. He then looks back at Derek. His hands are tugging at his quiver and adjusting his deer skin, alternating between the two movements without pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How old are you?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have 20 years,” the pup replies. Well, Derek guesses he isn’t quite a pup anymore. He’s only two years younger than Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks back up at the sky then sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to leave,” he says. He turns to walk off into the bramble of trees. He lifts one leg over a shrub then turns back around, a smile back on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll visit again,” Stiles says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he’s gone.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If Isaac notices how tense Derek is when he gets into the camaro, he doesn’t say anything. In fact, based on Derek’s hermit-like behavior, Isaac might believe that Derek’s stress has to do with the fact that this is the most time he’s spent outside of his loft since he moved back to Beacon Hills. Two months later and he hasn’t ventured anywhere outside of the preserve, police station, Erica and Boyd’s house, and his loft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was your day?” Isaac asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek squeezes the steering wheel so hard the metal creaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just smell like...” Isaac flounders as he struggles to find the right words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tries to take deep, even breaths. He hopes the next words out of the pup’s mouth don’t mention a scent belonging to a random shifter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You smell like cigarettes,” Isaac blurts. “I know you try not to smoke around me, but you reek today. And I know you only do it when you’re really stressed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac’s heart is hammering in his chest when he finishes talking. If it beats any faster, it’ll leap right out of his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I went by the house today,” Derek says. He’ll let Isaac come to his own conclusions about the rest of Derek’s day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Isaac digests the information, Derek takes a sniff of his leather jacket under the guise of checking for cigarette smoke. He’s searching for Stiles’ scent beneath the thick smell of Wereboro’s. He can smell dirt from the preserve and the ash from his childhood home. There’s no trace of Stiles’ scent. It’s as if the strange shifter never existed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was school?” Derek asks. He needs a distraction from the never ending curve balls that this day has been throwing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac shrugs. “It was fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just fine,” Derek presses. He sounds like his mother when she would weedle information out of his littlest sister, Cora.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I ate lunch with Greenberg. He’s weird but no one else sits with me,” Isaac says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one sits with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone already has friends. No one wants to make new friends halfway through junior year with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>transfer</span>
  </em>
  <span> student, Derek,” Isaac whines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s lips twist into a smile. Only teenagers can make sitting alone at lunch into a crisis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re laughing at me,” Isaac cries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not. Maybe you’ll make more friends if you join a club or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac grumbles in his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they pull into Erica and Boyd’s driveway, Isaac leaps out of the car. Erica is waiting at the front door, having already heard their approach. Isaac barrels past her, head down and shoulders up. It’s the same slouch he had when Derek dropped him off at school. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was school?” Erica calls after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They listen to Isaac stomp his way upstairs. There’s a door slam then the sound of music.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Teenagers,” Erica says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gestures for Derek to come inside. He does, toeing his muddy boots off by the front of the door before making his way into the kitchen. He drops down into a chair while Erica busies herself with scooping up the piles of papers that are strewn across the counters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was working on my thesis. Human civilizations and how they impacted current werewolf society,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They still study humans,” Derek says. He thought conspiracy theorists were the only people who cared about humans. Peter might’ve fit into that group with all his books on magic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek remembers the barrier that prevented him from entering the Hale house’s basement. Maybe Peter wasn’t as crazy as everyone thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, there are some loonies who think that there are humans still walking among us, but the last one died maybe a hundred years ago,” Erica says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek leans his chair back so it's balancing on two legs instead of four. “I wonder what’ll come along and replace us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door swings open and Boyd steps inside. He grins at Erica. In two steps, he’s pulling her into his arms and plating a kiss on her cheek. She makes a show of pushing him away, but she’s grinning too hard for there to be any real heat behind the action.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re covered in oil,” she complains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the thanks I get after a long day of fixing cars,” Boyd says. He looks mock offended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look disappears when he spots Derek at the table. A smile forms in its place and he raises his hand for a fist bump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look who finally left the loft,” Boyd says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They bump fists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They say fresh air is supposed to be good for you,” Derek says. He looks at his two betas then rises to his feet. “Well, I’ll head out now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not leaving before dinner,” Erica yells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Derek keeps walking to his boots, Boyd reaches out to grab his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We haven’t even had a chance to catch up,” Boyd says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laura wouldn’t have to be guilted into spending time with her pack. If she were here, they would be gathered around her table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, what’s for dinner?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica grins. “I have leftover chili.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek helps her clean the rest of her papers from the table while Boyd gets to work on reheating the chili in a pot. Derek tries not to gape when he sees the massive tupperware container of chili that Boyd pulls from the fridge. One day, he’s going to have to talk to Erica about portion control</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac comes downstairs when the smell of chili starts to spread through the house. Without anyone asking, he starts setting the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner is filled with loud chatter and laughter that lasts so long, Derek’s almost sad to leave when it’s over. He helps Erica put away the uneaten chili then takes over the cleaning by washing the dishes and sweeping the floors. Erica’s so pleased that she offers him a tub of chili for the road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for stopping by and picking Isaac up,” Boyd says as he walks Derek back to his car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re pack. It’s what an alpha is supposed to do,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So today was just you being a good alpha?” Boyd asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek winces. He hadn’t meant to sound like he was at their house out of some archaic sense of duty. Boyd and Erica are his best friends; they mean the world to him. Hell, Isaac has only been in Derek’s care for a few months, but he didn’t add the pup to the pack just to act like a model alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No it wasn’t. You matter to me. All of you do,” Derek responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd lifts an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re smoking again,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shrugs. He spent so much time today worrying about Stiles’ scent that he didn’t even think about the smell of cigarettes. He isn’t sure how he wants to respond to Boyd’s statement. He can say that he needed something to take the edge off after seeing his family’s house, but unlike Isaac, Boyd will press him for details. As silent as the beta can be in group settings, Boyd’s the pack member who wants to sit for hours and talk about feelings. Derek thinks it’s a side effect of living with a teenager.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He settles on a half truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I found out Peter was obsessing over magic before he died,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd’s eyebrows are dangerously close to touching his hairline.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So Peter thought magic still existed and wanted to be a warlock or something?” Boyd asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shrugs again. Hearing those words out loud makes him realize how absurd this situation is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter had to have been crazy for a while if he believed in magic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what else could explain what happened today in the Hale house?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek had felt magic. Or maybe, he hallucinated the whole thing. The barrier, the shifter with the wolf mask, all of it. Maybe Peter’s insanity did transfer to Derek with the alpha power.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s impossible right? Humans died and took the magic with them,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Boyd’s turn to shrug. “Not all of it,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek swallows around a lump in his throat. Not all of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think there are still some emissaries who can do a small parlor trick or two. Nothing too crazy, but enough to keep the conspiracy theorists up at night,” Boyd elaborates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd has thrown Derek a lifeline and sentenced him to death all in one sentence. There’s comfort in the knowledge that he isn’t losing his mind, but he can feel his heart breaking with the realization that comes along with the comfort: without a doubt someone killed his family.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Derek lingers at the investigation board with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. Outside his window, sunlight has just started to creep above the horizon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate’s photo captivates him. Her youth and beauty are immortalized on a cork board covered in paper scraps, photos and red string like the world’s worst scrapbook. Derek can’t look at her image without thinking of the empty velvet box that’s still sitting in the back of his sock drawer, or the magic that trapped her in the basement with the rest of his family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could’ve had a happy ending with her. He could’ve had an uncle and sister who weren’t buried in wolfsbane graves, six feet beneath the earth. He could’ve spent the past year of his life going to grad school with Erica and planning his wedding with Boyd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he’s mourning his family and trying to understand what parts of Peter’s notes are the ramblings of an insane man and what parts are genuine leads to finding his family’s killer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek returns to the all caps scribble of MAGIC.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes drift out to the window where he has a clear view of the preserve. From here, he can’t see the Hale house, but he knows with a startling accuracy which clump of trees are surrounding the shell of his childhood home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trees call forth a flash of brown eyes, a quirked lip, and a slender neck dotted with moles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s throwing his leg over the fire escape before he can process his actions. Instead of climbing the ladder down, he leaps over the edge of the metal railing. He winces when he hits the ground, a not so helpful voice reminding him that he isn’t as young as he used to be. He’s slower getting over the fence that blocks in the back of the building, but he manages to scale it. Then he’s in the trees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s panting when he reaches the Hale house, but he forces himself to keep jogging. He’s only a few miles past the house, still deep in Hale territory, when the smell of ozone hits him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A figure barrels into him, knocking him backwards and sending him sprawling onto his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” A familiar voice says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek blinks up at Stiles. The shifter is lounging across his chest like a cat on a comfortable perch. One of Derek’s hands is resting on Stiles’s hip, and he realizes how close they are. Two more centimeters and their noses will touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Derek breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles clambers to his feet in a flail of limbs that has Derek rushing forward to steady him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Stiles says. He tugs at the strap of his quiver, a smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me either,” Derek admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last time he saw Stiles, they were off Hale property, close to the stretch of woods that had been marked on Peter’s map by a crude circle. Right now, they’re miles north of that spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is your pack moving further north?” Derek asks. He hasn’t gotten a good grasp on his alpha instincts, but he knows that if Stiles’ pack moves any closer to Hale land, it’ll set his nerves on edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles grins again. His face makes Derek feel like he’s the subject of a secret joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My people have no desire to move,” Stiles responds. He looks over his shoulder when he mentions his pack as if he half expects one of them to materialize out of the trees behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where do </span>
  <em>
    <span>your people</span>
  </em>
  <span> live?” Derek asks, repeating the words Stiles’ used.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles shrugs. He fixes Derek with a look so serious that the alpha finds himself bracing for an attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not supposed to be here, but I wanted to see you.” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something warm floods Derek’s stomach when he hears Stiles’ words. The idea of Stiles sneaking away from his alpha to meet Derek in the woods gives him a rush of feelings that remind him of being in high school and sneaking out of class to kiss Paige beneath the bleachers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek reaches out to cup Stiles’ cheek, mimicking the way Stiles’ touched him when they first met. He drags his thumb across the shifter’s cheekbone then brings his hand down rest on Stiles’ neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scenting Stiles like this is risky if he’s sneaking away from his alpha. The rational part of Derek knows he should stop, but there’s another part, a stronger part, that’s pleased by how forbidden it is. He growls, low and throaty, when Stiles leans into the touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re fascinating,” Derek whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dips his head down so he can bury his nose in Stiles’ neck. He smells unlike anything Derek has ever smelled before. Derek groans, pulling his head back before he succumbs to the urge to sink his teeth into Stiles’ creamy skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ fingers hook onto the lapels of Derek’s leather jacket. He tugs the alpha forward so that their lips come crashing together. Derek cups Stiles’ face, pulling him closer so he can deepen the kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They separate after what feels like an eternity. Stiles’ lips are swollen. His eyes are dazed, floating in and out of focus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He mumbles something in his native language.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Derek agrees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabs Stiles’ hand so he can press a kiss to the palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kissing you is different than kissing anyone else,” Stiles says. He looks at Derek, and the older wolf feels pinned beneath that gaze. “I want to do it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek grins. He wraps an arm around Stiles’ waist so he can give the shifter a slower kiss. He uses his teeth to tug on Stiles’ bottom lip, and groans when Stiles threads his long slender fingers through Derek’s hair in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go,” Stiles says when they separate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so important that you have to leave?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles grins. “I’m supposed to be teaching the young ones how to fight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lifts an eyebrow. Learning how to fight used to be standard for werewolves. They were a minority group, hiding in the shadows and hunted by humans who thought they were mindless killers. Now, with modern society and a lack of prejudiced humans armed with deadly wolfsbane, only the most traditional packs still trained their pups for combat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looks over at Stiles’ furs and his weapons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys must be real traditional,” he guesses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t know. What is your pack like?” Stiles asks. He stumbles over the word pack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It used to be big,” Derek admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ eyebrows knit together. He doesn’t need Derek to elaborate for him to know that there’s a tragedy hidden beneath the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should go. Your pack is going to wonder where you are,” Derek says. He presses another kiss to Stiles’ hand, loving the way  Stiles’ heartbeat quickens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come back tomorrow,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives Derek a quick kiss then darts off, heading south.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can feel himself grinning the entire walk back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His good mood evaporates when he returns to town. When he was with Stiles, time had stopped. There were no thoughts of Peter, no mysteries to unearth, and no pack demanding leadership. There was nothing aside from Stiles and his lips and his touch. Back in Beacon Hills, where everyone who walks by him tilts their heads back and greets him with “Alpha,” he can feel his burdens weighing him down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek digs in his pockets, cursing when he realizes his box of cigarettes are empty. It makes him feel jittery and anxious, and his mood seems to worsen when he steps inside of Deaton’s shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The emissary is sitting behind the front desk with a celebrity gossip magazine open in front of him. Derek catches a glimpse of </span>
  <em>
    <span>BEIDI HUM BREAKS UP WITH WERE-JAGUAR BOYFRIEND</span>
  </em>
  <span> before the magazine is shut and tossed into a drawer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alpha Hale,” Deaton says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knife to the gut would be more welcome than that greeting. The formal title brings back memories of Derek waiting for his mother in the lobby while she, Deaton and Laura discussed pack business. The title and the memories and the expectations it carries, are too big and too heavy for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just Derek,” he grunts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Deaton murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The emissary lifts the partition that divides the waiting room from the office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall we talk around back?” Deaton asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two take the familiar path from the lobby to the back examination room. Here, the walls have been soundproofed so no other shifters can eavesdrop. Neither shifter speaks until the door clicks shut behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I assume you need help with the pack,” Deaton says, tone calm and polite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m looking into magic,” Derek responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton’s mouth twitches. It’s the most emotion Derek has seen from the man since– well, ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Magic has been gone for centuries,” Deaton says, “if you believe every rumor you hear about humans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a time when humans thought shifters were a rumor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emissaries can do magic,” Derek counters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emissaries with a spark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek blinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A spark?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wishes he stopped at a damn gas station and bought a pack of cigarettes. If Deaton keeps giving him short answers, they could be here all night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s a spark?” Derek asks when it becomes clear that Deaton isn’t going to elaborate on his one word answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not all humans and not all emissaries can do magic. A select few have the ability to tap into it– the few with a spark. Or maybe they were called sparks. The writings on the topic are vague,” Deaton says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have a spark?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t wield magic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head. The puzzle pieces Peter left him are starting to move around in his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if you had a spark...” Derek trails off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shifters are still shifters. Magic isn’t compatible with our bodies, so we can’t do all the things humans could. A lucky few can manipulate small quantities of mountain ash or have a higher tolerance for wolfsbane,” Deaton explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s mountain ash?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A magical substance that can create barriers no shifter can cross. It used to be more common when humans were around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek remembers the barrier that kept him out of the basement, the barrier that had likely kept his family in the basement while the house burned around them. The earth tilts as the two pieces of the puzzle slide into place. Somewhere out there is a spark, who used their tiny amount of power to take everything from him. But why?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the sudden interest?” Deaton asks, voice still even. “Many shifters aren’t interested in sparks or humans unless they’re one of the rare few that are convinced humans are hiding among us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looks at Deaton. He pushes past the unease he feels at the shifter’s blank expression, and tries to study the shifter in front of him. Deaton was bound to the Hale pack before Derek or even Laura had been born. His job, the real one not the veterinary practice, is to guide, serve, and protect the Hale alpha and pack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Deaton is lying, if he has a spark and used it to kill Derek’s pack, then the bond between them should be tainted. Derek isn’t as talented as his mother and he doesn’t have Laura’s training, but he can still feel every pack bond. That part of being alpha is instinctual. Deaton’s bond, despite the emotionless exterior, is as warm and strong as any other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter went insane while trying to piece together this mystery. If Derek is going to solve it and find his pack’s killer, then he needs to be smarter than his uncle. He needs allies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the Hale fire wasn’t an accident. Someone, a spark, used magic to trap and kill my family,” it’s the first time Derek has said the words aloud. Admitting the truth to Deaton lifts a weight off his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a blink-and-you-miss-it instant, Deaton’s face is twisted into a look of horror then it’s back to a blank slate. Derek can see the gears spinning in the emissary’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peter was investigating it. I found his notes on magic, and they’re adding up in a way that doesn’t make him seem so crazy,” Derek admits. Then he tells Deaton about the barrier in the Hale house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mountain ash,” Deaton says when Derek finishes talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sit in silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to be careful,” Deaton says. He looks at Derek and the alpha can see the concern written across his emissary’s face. “You said Peter was looking into this right before his death.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peter’s death never sat well with me. I’ve known him just as long as I’ve known Talia. He would rather die than kill Laura,” Deaton says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He went insane,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Deaton says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lifts an eyebrow, “Maybe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just when he thought life couldn’t throw him any other curve balls. Peter’s insanity was the one constant in this story. Now, Deaton is challenging that. The room sways and Derek puts a hand on the wall to steady himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean maybe?” Derek asks when he’s sure that he isn’t going to collapse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton places a steadying hand on Derek’s back. The vet can’t tell, but the palm of his hand is resting on the center of Derek’s triskelion tattoo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need Peter’s autopsy results,” Deaton says.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The rhythm of starting his mornings in the preserve makes Derek feel anchored in a way that he hasn’t been since returning to Beacon Hills two months ago with an emptiness where Laura’s alpha bond should have been. He walks through the trees, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he takes the familiar path to the edge of Hale territory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When a figure leaps from the trees, he’s ready. He spins on the ball of his right foot, reaches out with his left hand and wraps the arm around Stiles’ waist. His other hand cups the back of Stiles’ head so it won’t bang against the tree that Derek pins him to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Stiles breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being with Stiles feels like taking a breath of fresh air after being submerged in a pool of water. The whole time you're yearning for that gasp of oxygen and when it comes, there’s no sweeter relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instinct has Derek pushing his nose in Stiles’ neck. He inhales, searching for Stiles’ intoxicating scent. But Derek can’t smell it. He can’t smell anything really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Stiles asks. He sounds nervous. His heart beat should have increased, but Derek can’t hear it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is something wrong?” Stiles asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shakes his head. He can smell the damp soil beneath their feet and the incoming rain. All around him, he can hear insects, birds and other creators. Still, he can’t smell or hear Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Questions rest on the tip of Derek’s tongue, but he swallows them down. Mysteries have taken over the rest of his life, and he doesn’t want to start a new one with Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek knows his own heartbeat must have stuttered, a telltale sign of a lie, but Stiles doesn’t mention it. Instead, he just nods his head. He drags his hands through Derek’s hair, tugging at the strands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about your pack. They live south of here, right?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles smiles. “Yeah. My </span>
  <em>
    <span>pack</span>
  </em>
  <span> lives south of here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing you don’t live in a town,” Derek says. His lips brush against Stiles’ skin with every word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles laughs. “We’re a.. Tribe. I think that’s the word,” he responds. “My best friend Scott is one of the tribe’s protectors. So am I, but that’s because it’s my duty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your duty?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls back so he can see Stiles’ face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dad is a councilman, so I’m being trained to replace him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A councilman?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A councilman.. A leader.. An alpha,” he elaborates, hesitating on the last word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek hums. He presses his forehead against Stiles’, addicted to the sensation of touching him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m an alpha,” he says. He lets his eyes glow red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ breath catches in his throat. His fingers tighten on Derek’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek blinks. The red disappears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t be here,” Stiles says. His heartbeat seems to be beating faster than normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushes at Derek, and the alpha lets himself get shoved backwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles lands on his feet, one hand braced against the tree. He glances at Derek then behind him as if he wants to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek grabs his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” he asks, genuinely curious. He loves the time he spends with Stiles, talking and running and even kissing, but he can't help wondering what Stiles is getting out of their secret relationship especially when it's clear his pack would disapprove of Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Siltes shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not like I tell people that I’m coming to see a mysterious alpha werewolf.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you tell them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I’m going hunting with Scott,” Stiles says. He smiles and it's all mischief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek smiles back, leaning in for a quick peck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You like sneaking around with me,” Derek teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles makes a show of rolling his eyes, but he grins when Derek nips at the soft skin near his adam’s apple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d love to meet Scott one day,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles stiffens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he yanks his hand out of Derek’s grip. His hands are a flurry of movement. They tug at his hair, adjust his deerskin then go back to his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s heart lurches. “Stiles, wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles takes off, leaving Derek half hard and confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>ooo000ooo</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek slides into a booth at the diner, flashing a smile at the deputy who’s halfway through a plate of scrambled eggs. The good thing about small towns is that you always know where certain people can be found.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alpha Hale,” the deputy says. He looks just as flabbergasted by Derek's appearance as the waitress who’s been staring at him from behind the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Parrish,” Derek responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek has a soft spot for the deputy. He was the first person on the scene when the fire happened. His hellhound abilities had let him rush inside and drag Peter out, saving his uncle’s life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tries not to think about how eight months later, his uncle ended up dead anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I, uh, help you with anything?” Parrish asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek glances around the diner. Everyone’s eyes are glued on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go for a drive,” Derek suggests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish lifts an eyebrow, as if he wants to call Derek out for the creepy solicitation. Instead, he jerks his head to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll drive,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tosses down a crumpled ten dollar bill on the table then follows Derek out of the diner and to his squad car. Once they’re inside, with the windows rolled up and radio on, Derek starts talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a favor to ask you,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this a favor for the Hale alpha or...?” He lets the words trail off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just coming to you as a nephew trying to understand what happened to his uncle,” Derek says the words he rehearsed in the mirror this morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can hear Parrish swallow, but he’s too scared to look at the deputy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The wolf you pulled from the fire isn’t the one who helped raise me,” Derek continues. “I just– I’m alone and I need to know why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is a low blow. Derek knows he’s hitting a soft spot for Parrish. The hellhound came to Beacon Hills two years ago and asked Talia for her blessing to live on her land. He was an omega, who lost his family in an accident that he wouldn’t talk about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m alone and I don’t know why,” he had said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish takes a shaky breath. There’s something in his eyes that Derek can relate to. Although, even though Derek lost his family, he still has a pack. Parrish is truly alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you need?” Parrish asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want to see any files you have on my family,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them look at each other, and Derek isn’t in the police car anymore. He’s sitting at the police station across from the deputy, listening as Parrish explains that an omega has slaughtered his sister. Parrish had given Derek two options: let the police handle it or treat it as a Hale pack dispute and take care of the problem on his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the time, Derek wanted revenge. He was quick to use his right as a member of the Hale pack to keep the police out of it. The omega needed to die at Derek’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was two months ago. Eight months prior was the fire that took his pack, his fiancée, and his uncle’s sanity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see what I can do,” Parrish says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The deputy drives to the police station. When the two of them enter the building, Derek can feel every eye land on him. He plasters an easy going smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the officers looks familiar to Derek. He’s a new one, arriving in Beacon almost around the same time as Parrish. Derek saw him the night of the fire with a few other officers in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek raises a finger in greeting. The officer turns away, grabbing his cell phone as he exits the station.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish ducks into a back office then returns holding two manila folders. He presses them into Derek’s hand with something like understanding in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek doesn’t open them until he’s at Deaton’s clinic. He passes them off to the vet without speaking. He doesn’t trust himself to open his mouth without spewing projectile vomit across the room. He isn’t sure he wants Deaton to read the files. If the wolfsbane in Peter is the common variety found in drugs and alcohol, then it’s possible that Peter had just overdosed on something and scrambled his own brain. But if it’s a more deadly strain...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The levels of wolfsbane in his system should’ve killed him,” Deaton says. His tone is light and conversational as if they’re discussing the weather and not murder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the alpha power is the only thing that kept Peter alive,” Deaton add.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek closes his eyes. He’s going to be sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Florenicus Mortis,” Deaton says. “This strain is very lethal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone poisoned him,” Derek says. He wishes he could be surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but–” Deaton cuts himself off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A shifter wouldn't have been able to poison Peter with this much wolfsbane without accidentally poisoning themselves as well."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone managed to do it,” Derek argues.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess under the most ideal circumstances. If a shifter was a spark, had the proper container for the plant, and was wearing protective gear,” Deaton says. Hell, when he puts it like that, it sounds crazy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who would even have all that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton stammers out a response, “They still grow this strain in some places. Researchers, chemists, law enforcement agencies and other people might have those supplies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek catches a glimpse of the clock on the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, I have to get Isaac,” He glances at Deaton who’s still pouring over the files. “I’ll, uh, let you keep those.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek leaves Deaton behind and heads over to Isaac’s school, breaking a few driving laws on the way over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he pulls up to the curb, a familiar face exits the red-brick building. The man strides past Derek’s car and climbs into a gray Toyota. A photograph of that face is pinned to the investigation board in his room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chemistry teacher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac comes out of the school with headphones shoved in his ears. He wastes no time getting into Derek’s car and slouching down so no one can see him through the windows. Derek considers mentioning that the windows are tinted, but he reconsiders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you avoiding someone?” he asks instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m avoiding everyone,” Isaac groans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac fixes him with a flat glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek assumes that’s a no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drives over to Erica and Boyd’s house. As he navigates Beacon Hills’ familiar streets, his mind returns to the chemistry teacher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you know about Mr. Harris?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac groans. The sound stretches for an uncomfortable amount of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek almost regrets asking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s the worst,” Isaac says after pausing to take a breath. The pup has a strong set of lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Do you guys ever use wolfsbane in class?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac scrunches his nose. “Are you always going to give me dad talks while we’re in the car?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not giving you a dad talk,” Derek balks. He’s 22-years-old. He isn't old enough for anything he says to be considered dad talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure you aren’t. If you wanted to know if I’m on drugs, you could’ve just asked,” Isaac says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek gapes. How did the conversation take this turn?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not by the way. I don’t take wolfsbane laced things,” Isaac adds. He crosses his arms and turns to look at the blur of trees rushing past the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you’re on drugs,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drags a hand down his face. He doesn’t understand how his mom survived raising three teenagers. One is already so much work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I need you to do something for me,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac relaxes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing that Harris has a cabinet where he keeps the real dangerous shit locked up. I need to go in there and look for something.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Derek lies in a low brush. He’s close to the ground, his weight balanced on his front paws as his eyes track a rabbit. Stiles crouches beside him. His bow and arrow are ready, and his breathing is slow and even.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wants Stiles to shift as well. He wants to see what his wolf form looks like and wants to see him in action as he hunts with Derek. Although the alpha isn’t going to lie, he’s also excited to see Stiles use his bow. Aside from police officers, he’s never seen a shifter with a weapon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside him, Stiles releases a breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An arrow hits the rabbit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pads forward, watching Stiles as he picks up the dead animal. Derek shifts. Stiles squeaks when he sees Derek, his face turning a pretty shade of pink. He tilts his head up so that he’s staring at the sky, trying to give Derek some semblance of privacy. Derek huffs, leaning forward to sniff the air around Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you trying to smell me?” Stiles asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek moves closer so that the two of them are pressed against each other. Stiles flushes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t smell you. It’s weird,” Derek says. He buries his face in Stiles’ hair and takes a deep breath. Nothing. “Why can’t I smell you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles turns his head, so he can press a kiss to Derek’s temple then another one to Derek’s mouth. He drags blunt teeth against Derek’s bottom lip. The alpha trembles, and he’s hit with a yearning for Stiles’s teeth to elongate into fangs so he could mark Derek’s skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really want to know?” Stiles asks when they separate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek hesitates. He wants to take back the question. He liked the uncomplicated, simplicity of being with Stiles, and the look on Stiles’ face suggests that things are about to get very un-simple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I want to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to show you,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles reaches for his sleeve then pauses. They lock eyes, and every cell in Derek’s body is vibrating in anticipation, or maybe that’s fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could be risking my tribe’s existence by showing you this,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can trust me,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles rolls up his sleeve. On his right forearm there’s a thick black tattoo. It looks like a rune made of three interlocking triangles with a dot in the center. When Derek drags a finger along its surface, he can feel a strange energy pulsing beneath Stiles’ skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it permanent?” Derek asks. He rests his hand on it, so he can feel the pulses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I redo it every day. Well I don’t. Lydia does it. Magic doesn’t work when you use it for yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looks up. “You can do magic? How did you even learn?” He asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles is a spark. He could help him find his family’s murderer. Is there a way to ask that without sounding intense and creepy?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles smiles as if Derek said something funny. “Learning is easy. It’s natural.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magic isn’t natural for shifters. Derek opens his mouth to say that, but the sound of his ringtone cuts him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ eyes light up when Derek pulls the device out of his pocket. Derek realizes that if Stiles’ pack is so old school that they’re living in the woods, this might be Stiles’ first time seeing a phone. Or any type of technology.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Isaac,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek,” Isaac’s voice is a high pitched whine. He hasn’t sounded this scared since the night his father had been arrested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s hand stands on edge. He’s in full alpha mode, every part of his body screaming for him to find his packmate. “Pup, what’s happening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone is here. I think – I think they’re going to attack Harris,” Isaac whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do they know you’re there?” Dereks’ mind is running through all the possibilities.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re too busy arguing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a bang from Isaac’s side of the phone. Derek’s eyes flash red, and Stiles sucks in a quick breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hide. I’m coming,” Derek says. He hangs up the phone with a heaviness in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek?” Stiles asks. His large brown eyes are filled with concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He presses a kiss to Stiles’ cheek as a quick goodbye. Stiles grabs his hand to stop him from leaving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you– I could help,” Stiles offers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s chest swells. He knows how Stiles’ pack is. Stiles won’t give the precise location of their camp, but Derek knows that it’s deep in the woods outside of Hale land. He’s also certain that Stiles has never ventured out of the woods his entire life. Hearing him offer to leave for the first time, just to help Derek, means more to the alpha than words can express. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although, as much as Derek would love to have Stiles at his side, he can’t risk it. For a shifter accustomed to a life in the woods, the sounds and smells of the town would be overwhelming with its cacophony of noise and nauseating mixture of scents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Derek says. He gives Stiles’ hand a reassuring squeeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>ooo000ooo</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The high school looks abandoned when Derek arrives. The lights are off and the parking lot is empty. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the school without students milling about on the front steps or jogging laps around the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jogs up the steps, sniffing the air. There’s too many lingering smells from the hundreds of students and teachers, masking the fresher scents from whoever is inside with Isaac.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek slips inside, careful that door doesn’t bang shut behind him. He blinks and his vision runs red. He tilts his head to the side to try and hear what’s happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upstairs, in a far corner, is a jackrabbiting heartbeat. Derek almost sighs in relief. Isaac. He’s about to take off when he hears a sudden yell at the opposite side of the school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t told anyone. She doesn’t have to worry,” the voice is high pitched, loud and nervous. When Derek was a student, Harris always sounded irritated and like he was too good to be teaching high school classes. He’s never heard the chemistry teacher sound scared before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I  know,” a second voice says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pair are engrossed in their conversation; they don’t know that there are two other people in the school with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tamps down his curiosity and heads to Isaac. He needs to get the pup out of here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He creeps down the hallway, paying half attention to the conversation happening near what he thinks is the gym.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s starting to get worried. People have been digging into old files,” the mystery man says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a yelp then the sound of gym doors banging open. Even from here, Derek can smell the sharp, acrid stench of fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Slapslapslapslapslap.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek hears footsteps echo down a hall as Harris sprints and the mystery man gives chase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek takes off, no longer caring about staying quiet. He prays the mystery shifter will be too preoccupied by the hunt to notice any sounds he makes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek bursts into the chemistry lab. He doesn’t see Isaac anywhere and the panic he’s been holding back is coming dangerously close to the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pup,” Derek whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A closet door opens and Isaac steps out. His eyes are wide. Derek knows the pup is two seconds away from hyperventilating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few hallways over, there’s a crash as the man catches Harris. Both Derek and Isaac freeze. They hear a faint sob.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please no,” the voice is barely above a whisper as if someone is pressing down on Harris’ neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s heart is hammering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears the sound of skin tearing open. There’s the bursting, coppery scent of blood. Seconds later, he can hear Harris’ lungs filling with liquid then the choking noises that remind Derek of Peter’s last moments. He can almost smell the forest around him. He can feel his uncle’s blood beneath his claws.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sob wrenches Derek back to the present. He’s in the school. He isn’t outside. Peter isn’t here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lunges forward, pressing a hand to Isaac’s mouth to try and quiet the noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air outside has gone still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at that Harris–” the voice says “–more loose ends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek drags Isaac out the room. He knows that most of the doors are locked with steel chains that are too strong for a shifter to break. Isaac’s only chance to escape is the main entrance. It’s the same entrance they can’t reach without passing by the killer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two head down the hall. There’s a snarl behind them, then the killer begins to run.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek ducks into a stairwell, bringing them down to the first floor. As they emerge into the empty hallway, Derek can hear the killer enter the stairwell they just exited. Damn, he’s fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac leads Derek into the cafeteria.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The locker room exit is never locked,” he pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head. It’s closer than the main entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two dart into the locker room, gasping for air. The rows and rows of dark red metal look eerie without the lights on. Shadows twist in the corners. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They navigate the labyrinth of lockers, Derek following Isaac’s lead. Up ahead, about ten feet away, Derek can see the exit that will dump them out onto the lacrosse field. Derek lets out a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bang!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The locker room door flies open. A low growl fills the air, and Isaac shudders beside Derek. This shifter is fast. Derek glances at Isaac, who’s reaching the same conclusion as his alpha. They won’t make it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Run,” Derek says. He shoves Isaac towards the door then turns to face the killer. He just needs to buy the pup some more time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But–,” Isaac whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Run,” Derek yells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup turns and sprints. There’s a falter from the approaching footsteps of the killer. Derek lets his fangs and claws drop. He’s going to do whatever it takes to protect his pack. He lets out a warning growl, pouring every inch of alpha power into it. The sound is so loud it rattles the locker doors. Derek feels every pack bond ripple from its force.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The killer stops behind the lockers. No doubt, he’s contemplating his next move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek makes it for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rams his shoulder into the closet row of lockers. The metal topples over taking down the next row and the next like a chain of dominoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The killer curses, retreating into the hallway to avoid being crushed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s instincts are telling him to chase after the killer. He came onto Hale territory, and while Harris wasn’t a member of the Hale pack, he was under the pack’s protection as a citizen of the town. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek almost succumbs to the instinct, but he thinks about Isaac, outside and alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he merges from the locker room, he’s relieved to see Isaac still standing on the field. He blinks to clear away the red and feels his body undo the beta shift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you said to run, but I couldn’t leave you,” Isaac explains when he sees his alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pulls the pup into a tight hug. He can feel Isaac’s tears stain his shirt and he focuses on the pup’s heartbeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. We’re safe,” Derek murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac doesn’t speak again until after Derek has called the cops and they’re sitting on the front steps waiting for their arrival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harris was killed because of that wolfsbane he had, wasn’t he?” Isaac asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looks at Isaac. He wishes there’s something he can say to comfort the pup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Derek responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The guy that killed Harris.. Before you came, they said it was evidence. He took it from Harris’ desk,” Isaac takes a shaky breath. “Harris asked if he did this to the fire marshal as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek stares ahead as he puts the pieces together. Harris was involved in the fire and so was the fire marshal. Now the person who was behind it– the killer referred to them as she– was cleaning house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isaac, I need you to keep the information about Harris, the wolfsbane, and the fire marshal to yourself,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Won’t that help the killer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isaac, look at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can feel his heartbeat in every inch of his body. Right now, there’s a murderer running around Beacon Hills, trying to keep the truth about the Hale fire a secret.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If the police start looking into this and that guy discovers that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> already know about why he killed Harris and who he killed before Harris...” Derek trails off but from the look on Isaac’s face, he knows that the pup understands the danger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wraps an arm around Isaac’s shoulders. Regret fills his mouth with a bitter taste. He could’ve gotten Isaac killed today. He should’ve just gone himself, but he didn’t. Now, Isaac is wrapped up in the same danger that killed his family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one can know,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac nods his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two police cruisers pull up and Derek releases Isaac when he sees Parrish and his partner climb out of the first car. Parrish’s jaw is set and one hand is resting on his gun. His partner Ramirez climbs out of the car as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alpha Hale,” Jordan says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Officer Parrish, Ramirez,” Derek gerets them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd’s beat up truck rattles into the parking lot. Erica flings the passenger door open before the car can come to a complete stop. She runs to Isaac, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened? We felt...” Erica’s eyes flit over to Derek, checking to make sure he’s okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re okay,” Isaac reassures her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish clears his throat, and Derek turns to face the officer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said there’s a body,” he murmurs, stepping closer to the alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica gasps. Got to love shifter hearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Near the gym,” Derek responds. “The pup called me scared out of his mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard Harris get attacked,” Issac says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish turns to face the pup. He seems to soften a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This whole place feels like a violent death,” Parrish says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek thinks of the sound of the chemistry teacher choking on his own blood. He wonders how much Parrish’s hellhound abilities will tell him about the murder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish nods his head. He looks at the school. Every line of his body is tense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ramirez steps forward to take Derek’s statement then Isaac’s while Parrish takes the officers from the second car inside the school. Derek and Isaac make sure to tell an abridged version of the story: Harris was murdered and it sounded like he knew the killer. No, they didn’t actually see the person who killed Harris. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they’re given the all clear to go, Derek insists on bringing Isaac with him to the loft despite Erica and Boyd’s hesitance. He spends the ride home trying not to wonder about what Parrish’s hellhound senses are telling him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Derek sleeps for twelve hours and still feels exhausted. The events of yesterday crash over him, and he has to bite down another wave of guilt. If he hadn’t made it to Beacon Hills High when he did, Isaac could’ve died.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek climbs out of bed. He pads into the living room, so he can check on Isaac. The pup is still fast asleep on the sofa. Watching Isaac’s chest rise and fall, calms Derek’s nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heads back into the bedroom. After he locks the door, he rolls his clothing rack aside so he can look at the investigation board. Harris’ photo feels just as haunting as the photo of the Hale house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Focus,” Derek tells himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows the link between Harris and the fire now. The chemistry teacher had given the killers the wolfsbane to sedate his family and to poison Peter. He’s still unsure how Kate’s photo adds in or who was the spark they found to create the mountain ash barrier. He also doesn’t know why someone would want to kill his family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at Peter’s map of Hale territory. Someone could be plotting to get the Hale’s land, or maybe they were trying to get something on Hale land. His eyes are drawn to the red circle on the map. He snatches it off the wall and folds into a neat square so he can slide it into his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton is unsurprised to see Derek and Isaac step into the shop. Isaac still looks groggy from being forced to wake up before noon. The pup grumbled the whole drive there, but after yesterday, Derek isn’t leaving him alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek, I’m guessing this is about the school incident,” Deaton says. He glances at Isaac as if he’s unsure how much is safe to say in front of the pup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The news about the Hale alpha being in the same place as a murdered high school teacher spread fast in a small town like Beacon Hills. Although, the newspapers, and as a result the gossip mills, left out Isaac’s name. Still, the killer would be searching everywhere for the pup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harris was the one with the wolfsbane, and the fire marshal was in on the murder,” Derek says skipping the pleasantries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton lifts an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The killer is cleaning house right now. They know someone’s looking into the Hale fire,” Derek says. “After yesterday, they definitely now it’s me, and it’ll only be a matter of time before they realize Isaac was the person with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac looks more awake now, his eyes ping ponging between his alpha and their emissary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pulls Peter’s map out of his pocket and unfolds it so Deaton can take a look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think there’s something here that they’re after, but I don’t have any proof. It’s just a gut feeling,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interesting,” Deaton hums.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He disappears into his office then returns with a map of his own and a leather bound book that smells like ozone and old age. Somehow Derek knows that his book is centuries old.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton unfurls a map and both Derek and Isaac lean forward to get a closer look. It’s the same as Peter’s map of hale territory, but Deaton’s is larger and has colorful squiggly lines traveling across the page. All the lines meet in one spot, south of Hale land, where they swirl into a large circle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what these are?” Deaton asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no clue,” Derek says at the same time Isaac blurts out, “They’re ley lines.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shoots Isaac an impressed look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erica studies human history and sometimes her readings are interesting,” the pup huffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are ley lines. They connect the magical monuments of our world,” Deaton drags a finger along the path of one of the lines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek watches the movement, fascinated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These ones all converge here,” Deaton says. He taps on the map. “The same place where Peter drew his circle and the location of the nemeton.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton places the old book on top of the map and begins to turn the pages, his finger caressing each leaf of paper. The smell of it’s leather and aged pages reminds Derek of the woods near the Hale house and Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The earlier parts of this book are focused on a nemeton, an old tree that acted as a source of magic and a beacon for the supernatural. Perhaps, it's how the town got its name. If someone was looking for something near Hale land, I would hazard a guess that it was the nemeton they were after,” Deaton explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But why kill my family for it? It’s not directly on Hale territory, so why not just go looking for it?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the interesting part,” Deaton responds. He flips to the middle of the book. The pages are still old, but they don’t smell as aged as the ones in the beginning, as if they were added over time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac shuffles closer to the table so he can peer down at the pages.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The nemeton was talked about the most when humans would have still been the ones acting as emissaries and caring for the book. It makes sense, they were the ones who could harness the nemeton’s magic. At this time, shifters were still outnumbered by humans so secrecy would’ve been the key to survival.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek struggles to wrap his head around Deaton’s words. He can’t imagine a world where he would’ve had to live in hiding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Hale pack decided to protect the nemeton from drawing attention to too many shifters or other humans. Somehow they used magic to keep anyone who wasn’t a Hale pack member from accessing the nemeton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoever killed your family might’ve been trying to break the magic that’s keeping shifters from accessing the nemeton,” Deaton says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The magic still exists? Can it even be destroyed at this point?” Isaac asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Deaton says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The emissary turns the book around so that Derek and Isaac can see the pages right side up. A few of the pages have been torn out, perforations being the only evidence that something was missing. On the page that’s still left, there’s a drawing of a large tree with massive, tangled roots and equally large branches extending upwards into the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most of the information about the nemeton, including the type of magic used, the limitations of it, or who it applies to are gone,” Deaton says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek fights back a groan. Of course when he starts looking for answers, he gets more questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are the pages then?” Isaac asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No clue,” Deaton responds. “They were missing when the book was in my father’s possession and his father’s possession. I assume they were taken out at least a half century ago. Perhaps even earlier than that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek eyes the book. Questions are still swirling in his head. How did his family’s killer know about the nemeton? He didn’t even know about it and he’s a Hale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mother never talked about a nemeton,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She might not have known. Shifters can’t use magic. Many have tried and none have succeeded. That means in our current society, the nemeton is useless. The Hale pack must’ve forgotten about it,” Deaton says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The killer didn’t forget,” Derek mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton snaps his finger. “If the killer knows about the nemeton then they’re somehow going to be connected to the town’s founding families. Those are the only people who ever knew about the its existence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton flips forwards to the front of the book where there’s a list of signatures. Derek looks at them fascinated, here was the list of founding families. His eyes land on the cursive script of Hale printed at the top of the list. He wonders if this ancestor was a wolf, even back then, or if the founding member of this town was a human, whose lineage eventually changed into another species over the next two centuries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes roam down it catching on the name Stilinski before landing on Argent, written close to the bottom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kate,” he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain of her death hits him full force, and Isaac places a comforting hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was a member of a founding family?” Isaac asks..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shrugs. “I guess so. A few of these names are familiar, they’re still around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll dig into the families just in case. In the meantime, you should see if Peter knew anything about how the boundaries around the Hale land work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head. Peter has a massive collection of books on magic that’s currently being stored beneath Derek’s bed. He glances at the clock and curses when he sees that it’s already nine in the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for the help, Deaton,” he says, giving the vet a pat on the shoulder before leading Isaac out of the clinic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drops the pup off at Erica’s house, who’s taken time off from class to stay with him during the day, then drives over to the preserve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles is waiting for him at the Hale house. It’s the furthest into Hale land the shifter has traveled and for a moment, Derek thinks there’ll be a day that Stiles walks all the way into Beacon Hills. The image of Stiles in all black furs standing on the same corner of the Beacon Hills’ ice cream shop where young yoga-pant-wearing moms take their children has a smile on Derek’s lips. It’d be like two separate worlds colliding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so funny?” Stiles asks. He cups Derek’s face and runs a thumb along the shape of the alpha’s smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing,” Derek says. He grabs Stiles’ hand so he can press a kiss to the inside of the shifter’s wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened yesterday? Is everything alright?” Stiles asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek hears the sound of claws ripping into Harris’ flesh. He can almost hear the faint sound blood splattering against cheap linoleum floors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather not talk about that,” Derek says. He doesn’t want to think about the weight of yesterday’s events when he’s with Stiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks like he’s going to push it, but something in Derek’s face keeps him quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Derek responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles leans forwards to give Derek a slow kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they separate, they’re both grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My father’s upset,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek frowns. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s realizing that I’m not going hunting with Scott. Lydia might’ve said something to him. Or maybe he knows Scott and Allison have been hunting alone. It doesn’t matter. My father thinks it’s too dangerous to be alone in the woods even though I can take care of myself,” Stiles says. Derek’s convinced Stiles can talk for hours without needing to take a breath. It’s equal parts worrying and fascinating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is dangerous,” Derek says, thinking about the never ending cycle of death that’s been following him for the past few months.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles huffs. “How can it be dangerous if I’m with you? Not that my dad knows I’m with someone when I’m out here,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, why don’t we tell him? I’m sure he’ll be happier if he knew you weren’t alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ easygoing smile evaporates. “Derek, I can’t tell him about you,” he says, his voice turning serious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can’t help but sigh. Stiles’ pack is secretive and reclusive, which means they can’t know about his relationship with Stiles. Still, Derek wishes Stiles could introduce him to his pack. His mother had mentioned many packs who prefer to live with nature and avoid modern cities. Satomi’s pack was one of them. But Derek couldn’t understand why a pack would cut themselves off from society and prevent their shifters from every meeting anyone new. Unless his pack was trying to hide– or protect– something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looks at Stiles. His eyes land on the inky, black tattoo on Stiles’ wrist and the casual way Stiles mentioned that he could do magic. Hell, his pack had managed to live close enough to Hale land where he could walk to the Hale house, and no one had realized they were out there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pieces of the puzzle start to slide together, allowing a dangerous image to start to form in Derek’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pulls the map he showed Deaton out of his pocket. He unfurls it with shaking hands and passes it to Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know where this is?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ heart is jack rabbiting. It’s beating so fast that Derek is positive it’s going to leap out of his ribcage. Derek grabs a pen from his jacket pocket and turns the map over to hide Peter’s crude circle and reveal the blank side of the paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still shaking, he draws a crude imitation of the tree from Deaton’s book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You live near this don’t you?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks at Derek. His jaw is clenched in a way that would make him look angry if not for the way Derek can smell his fear. He takes a step back, and Derek reaches forward, capturing Stiles’ hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s grip is light, the kind that Stiles can break without having to use too much effort, and maybe that’s what makes the shifter relax. Derek wishes he could relax as well. No, he wishes he could rewind time. He wants to prevent himself from connecting these dots, but the clues Peter has left behind keep leading him down this path and now these two separate worlds are barreling towards a head on collision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek,” Stiles begs. His voice cracks and Derek wants to let go. He’s never wanted anything more than he wants to fake a laugh and shove this situation under a rug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to show you something,” he says instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leads Stiles towards the Hale House, watching as the shifter’s eyes dart between the burnt out remains and Derek. The smell of fear is so thick that Derek could choke on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My family used to live here,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles turns to look at Derek. Beneath all his fear is curiosity. Stiles is hanging onto Derek’s every word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were murdered. Someone wanted to kill us because our bloodline keeps the wards strong that are protecting the nemeton.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles bites his bottom lip. He doesn’t seem surprised by anything Derek is saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone killed your family because they wanted to get to the nemeton,” Stiles repeats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles fixes his gaze on the house. Derek can see the wheels turning in his head. He half expects Stiles to take off running when he drops his hand. Instead, the shifter steps forward, curiosity pulling him towards the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek isn’t one-hundred percent certain how Stiles’ pack and his family’s death are pieces of the same puzzle. Somehow, the answer lies in the close proximity to the nemeton that Stiles’ pack has and their ability to do magic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek leads Stiles into the house. He watches the shifter take in the charred walls and creaking floors. Together, they pass through the living room and head towards the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was all for nothing. No one can get to my tribe,” Stiles says with the steady voice of someone who believes every word of what they’re saying. Derek could almost believe him if not for the blip in his heartbeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wonders if the killer knows about the pack that’s living near the nemeton, and if he would attack them the same way he attacked the Hales. If Stiles’ pack found a way to harness magic, then they were in the same amount of danger as Derek’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They step into the kitchen. Stiles moves towards the entryway of the basement, and Derek remembering his encounter with the mountain ash calls out:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles, wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the shifter is already crossing the threshold. One foot planted on the top step, the other still on the kitchen floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek blinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright? Would you prefer if I stayed up here? I hadn’t meant to offend you,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s still staring at Stiles’ foot, which is a good three inches past the mountain ash barrier that had kept Derek out of the basement. The same barrier that kept his family <em>in</em> the basement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you get over there?” Derek asks, his voice low. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles shrugs. “What do you mean? I walked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, how did you cross the mountain ash barrier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ stiffens. He takes a slow, careful step away from the doorway to the basement. A nervous smile is on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about Derek?” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m talking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek slams his hand into the air above the threshold. His palm smacks against a barrier that glows blue against his skin. He can see Stiles’ eyes light up in understanding, then fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles,” Derek was struggling to stay calm. He could see the edges of his vision start to bleed red. “How did you cross the barrier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” A lie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek launches across the room, crowding Stiles against the wall. The alpha can feel his mind struggling to accept the impossible. Magic. Wolfsbane. Mountain ash. It’s improbable for a shifter to know how to use them, but if they’re a spark, then it’s possible. But still, having the ability to actually cross a line of mountain ash. That’s impossible. Doesn’t matter if you’re a spark or not; no shifter can cross a mountain ash barrier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s only one creature that can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lunges. Stiles is quick to react. He brings up his knife, but Derek is expecting the move. He twists the boy’s wrist so the weapon clatters to the ground. Moving quickly, he uses the length of his body to pin Stiles to the wall while his other hand grabs Stiles’ other wrist. He makes sure to keep his grip firm enough to prevent Stiles from moving, but for the first time, he’s mindful of how hard his fingers are pressing into the boy’s pale skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ eyes flit between Derek, the knife, and the doorway, never staying in one spot for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek,” he cries. He sounds like a wounded animal. The sound wrenches something in Derek’s chest, but he forces himself to keep his grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to see you shift,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears slip down Stiles' eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles, let me see you shift,” Derek is begging now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek, please,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek uses his right hand to hold both of Stiles’ wrists. With his left hand, he gently holds Stiles chin, turning the younger man’s head so that Stiles is forced to meet Derek’s gaze. He doesn’t think he’s ever held Stiles so carefully before. He’s terrified of moving too fast or being too rough. It’s as if he’s become hyperware of just how fragile the man is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek flashes his eyes, a bright, alpha red. Disappointment settles in when Stiles’ eyes remain a clear brown. If he was a shifter, then his eyes would’ve flashed amber in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek releases him. The human brings the heel of his hand up to strike Derek’s nose, and the alpha lets the impact rock him backwards. He doesn’t react when Stiles goes for the knife or raises it up between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your father is right. It’s too dangerous for you to visit me,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can protect myself,” Stiles spits the words from between clenched teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek closes his eyes. In Stiles’ place, he sees Peter, Laura, his mother, his little sister Cora, Kate, and the other faces of his pack. He couldn’t protect them, but he can protect Stiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He understands it all now. The southern land Stiles’ pack lives on isn’t near the nemeton. It must be </span>
  <em>
    <span>on</span>
  </em>
  <span> the nemeton. They’re humans who’ve been living there since shifters became the dominant species, and for centuries, the boundaries a Hale ancestor made has been keeping their existence, their magic, and the nemeton safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Derek can stay alive and keep Stiles in the boundaries, then he can keep Stiles’ pack– his tribe– safe as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We shouldn’t see each other again,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek?” Stiles asks, voice shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek refuses to open his eyes. He doesn’t want to see the emotions that are playing out on Stiles’ face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to leave,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can feel tears slip between his closed eyes. They roll down his cheeks and dampen the stubble on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forces himself to keep his eyes shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can live with this choice and this pain if it means that Stiles will stay safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Derek opens his eyes, he’s alone.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Ten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Derek sits on the sofa next to Isaac with a wolfsbane beer in one hand and a half eaten bag of chips in the other. They’re both staring at some movie without really watching what’s going on. Isaac is mostly ignoring Derek’s sadness, and Derek is mostly trying to not call attention to the never-ending scent of panic that’s been lingering on Isaac ever since Harris’ murder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You smell like cigarettes,” Isaac says, breaking the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been a stressful day,” Derek responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this about your secret boyfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek stiffens then forces himself to relax.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know about that?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been walking around like you’re super happy. You disappear for hours on end. You even say his name in your sleep. What kind of name is Stiles anyways?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek turns to look at the pup. He never realized how observant Isaac is. Considering all the secrets Derek’s been carrying, it feels good to have one less. He smiles a little but it wavers when he remembers what happened at the Hale house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh damn, you guys broke up,” Isaac says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Derek lies. “It’s just too dangerous right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac nods his head. “The killer. What are we going to do about him?” he asks. No doubt, his instincts are calling for him to protect his alpha and his pack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We aren’t doing anything. I’ll handle it,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac nods his head, but he doesn’t look convinced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So then what are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to do?” Isaac asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to figure out who the killer is before he has time to make his next move,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he’s going to find me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek places a hand on the back of the pup’s neck. He gives it a reassuring squeeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t let him,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He checks his watch. It’s almost two o’clock. Parrish should be heading towards the diner right now for his lunch break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, we have to go,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>ooo000ooo </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish looks unsurprised to see Derek and Isaac. He offers the two of them a hesitant smile and gestures towards the empty seats opposite from him in the booth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I order more pie?” Parrish asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Derek says at the same time Isaac says, “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish lets out a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s going to think I don’t feed you,” Derek says to Isaac.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I’m sick of eating all that healthy crap you have lying around. Kale chips are disgusting, Derek,” Isaac shoots back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek huffs and turns his attention back to Parrish who’s slid his uneaten slice of pumpkin pie a little closer to Isaac.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think this is a friendly lunch visit,” Parrish says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It isn’t, but I don’t think we should talk here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Isaac has polished off Parrish’s plate, which involved swallowing huge bites of pie without a whole lot of chewing, the three head to Parrish’s cruiser. Once they start driving, Parrish fiddles with the radio until he lands on a station that’s mostly static. The white noise will help distort audio on recording devices and prevent any eavesdropping shifters from hearing their conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the night of the fire, did you sense anything with your hellhound abilities,” Derek asks. He isn’t sure how being a hellhound works, but he knows that they have a sixth sense when it comes to death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish swallows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To be honest, it was a sensory overload. It felt...” he words trail off and he looks at Derek with something pained in his eyes. He then glances at Isaac through the rear view mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should he be hearing this?” Parrish asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek glances back at Isaac through the car’s metal divider. The pup’s eyes are locked onto him. Derek turns back to Parrish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did it feel?” he asks again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Violent. Agonizing. I’ve rarely felt deaths that brutal,” Parrish responds. “I felt it when Peter killed Laura too. It woke me up. The feeling of agony and betrayal felt so strong. I felt it again when you killed Peter and then at the school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All of those deaths felt the same?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They all felt intense, but not the same. Well, the fire and Harris actually felt pretty similar. They felt raw as if there was a lot violence tied into it. Laura and Peter’s deaths felt muddier almost. It’s difficult to explain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek offers an answer. “They’re connected. My family was murdered, and Peter was looking into it. Someone must’ve found out because he was drugged on a type of wolfsbane that’s hard for regular shifters to get their hands on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In the school, the killer said Harris and the fire marshal were loose ends,” Isaac offers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you need from me?” Parrish asks. “Protective custody? I can call–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. If the fire marshal was involved, then anyone could be,” Derek interrupts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you so sure that you can trust me?” Parrish asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw you at the school,” Derek says. “You felt Harris’ murder, and I knew then that you couldn’t have caused it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a heavy pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to know everything,” Parrish says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek starts to talk. He explains the investigation board and books he found in Peter’s apartment then relays the story from there, going over his conversations with Deaton, the strange maps of ley lines, and the nemeton that’s hidden behind boundaries that were erected by some ancestor of the Hale pack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves out the parts about Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although, even without mentioning the existence of humans, the story is filled with fantastical elements and for a moment, Derek worries Parrish won’t believe him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’s done filling in Parrish, they spend a minute sitting in silence. Derek can see Parrish struggling to digest the information, but he can also see the stern set to his jaw. Something about that expression tells Derek that the deputy is willing to help them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I can find out more about Harris’ death,” Parrish says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish’s eyes have a distant look to them as if, mentally, he’s no longer in the car with them. Derek wonders what’s going through his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can you do that?” Isaac asks. The pup’s voice is somewhere between wonder and fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a hellhound. We can sense things about someone’s death if we try.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can sense a murderer?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I’ll see that much. Back when humans were around, there were some who could also sense death. They were called banshees. When they combined their powers with hellhounds, they could see the final moments of someone’s life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do all that on my own, but if I concentrate hard enough and I know what to look for, I can get a glimpse of something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek swallows. His chest is constricting making it hard to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In an instant, he’s in the woods as a small pup with Peter. His uncle has him pinned to the ground, his cheek pressed to the damp earth. Peter’s knee digs into his back. The pressure is just enough to keep his lungs from fully expanding. His vision blurs and a whine slips through his lips, high pitched and reedy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep your blood cold, pup,” Peter’s voice says far away and somehow too close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek clenches his fist. He can feel leather beneath his fingertips. Behind him, he hears Isaac’s reassuring and steady heartbeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s do it,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish drives them to the hospital. The officer is planning on seeing the body in the morgue to try and see–or at least feel–Harris’ last moments. Derek remembers the sound of Harris choking on his blood, and the way it took him back to Peter’s death. The memory has him ready to vomit.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Keep your blood cold</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The death is gruesome,” Derek warns Parrish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish nods his head, “I’ve seen worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish steps out of the car and heads inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s been gone a heart wracking five minutes when a familiar voice sucks the air out of the car. Derek’s heart stops and ice fills his veins. His body tenses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s done,” The voice of Harris’ killer floats to their ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Through the rear view mirror, Derek and Isaac make eye contact. Derek can see and smell the panic rolling off of the pup. Derek lifts a finger to his mouth, begging Isaac to be quiet. If they can hear the killer, then the killer can hear them too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek hopes that they’re parked far enough from the entrance so the killer won’t see or recognize them. That’s one of the major problems that comes with being the Hale alpha. Everyone knows who you are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are multiple people milling around outside. A mom uses a wet wipe to clean ice cream off her daughter’s face. There’s an old man sitting on a bench with his chin so close to his chest that he’s either dead or napping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A deputy is walking down the sidewalk with a phone held to his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call you when I have more. We need to move quickly,” the deputy says. His voice sends Derek’s voice into overdrive. This is the same deputy that he saw coming out of the station when he asked Parrish for Peter’s file.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The deputy walks with confidence, unaware that he’s being watched. Everything about him screams predator from his close cropped, black hair to his deep-set eyes that swing back and forth as if he’s constantly checking his surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He climbs into his squad car and leaves the hospital parking lot. Once his tail lights round the corner, Derek lets out a shaky breath. He turns around to look at Isaac through the cop car’s partition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something passes between the both of them. Neither one can believe what just happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac nods his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish comes back to the car, his brow furrowed. He looks at Derek then Isaac, and his expression looks even more puzzled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to you?” The officer asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should go to Boyd’s,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish drives them to Boyd’s without asking too many questions. He must smell the anxiety that’s stinking up the air because he stays quiet the entire drive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek enjoys the silence. This entire experience has been like a rollercoaster ride, but for the first time since Peter’s death, he feels like he’s starting to put together all the pieces of the puzzle. He finally knows the identity of one of the people responsible for his family’s murder. He feels like the ride is coming to an end, but he isn’t sure if he’s going to land safely or crash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him, Isaac’s heart is hammering. The sound of it grounds Derek. He pursued this mystery to get answers, but also to make sure that he keeps his pack safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica is waiting for them on the porch. She’s holding a cup of coffee in her hands with a nervous smile on her face. Derek knows Harris’ murder is still on her mind. She takes a step forward when they get out of the car, but stops mid step as if she wants to rush them but isn’t sure if it’s appropriate in front of Parrish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac makes the decision for her. He pulls her into a tight hug, moving so quickly that some of her coffee sloshes over the rim of her mug and spatters onto the porch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wraps an arm around both of them. He takes a deep breath, feeling steadied by the presence of his pack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re here. They’re safe. He’s going to keep it that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica and Isaac move inside of the house, leaving Parrish and Derek outside. Parrish looks awkward after the display of affection. Derek wonders how long it’s been since Parrish had such a casual display of affection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek isn’t sure what makes him do it, but he wraps an arm around Parrish’s shoulders. He lets his hand skirt across the back of the deputy’s neck to scent him, and he swears Parrish’s skin feels warmer beneath the palm of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk inside where Isaac and Erica are already assembled around the kitchen table. Boyd is standing near the microwave where an unhealthy amount of bacon is sitting inside as if Erica made it this morning then put it inside to keep it warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek gives Boyd a quick hug before moving to the head of the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of the deputies killed Harris,” Isaac blurts out the statement before Derek can even pull his seat out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica chokes on a sip of coffee. Boyd reaches over to pat her on the back. Parrish’s eyebrows are now comically close to his hairline. The expression would’ve made Derek laugh if not for the seriousness of the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could’ve broken it to them in a more gentle way,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish purses his lips. “How do you know it was a deputy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We saw him leaving the hospital today. I’d recognize that voice anywhere,” Isaac says. He shudders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It had to have been Wylkes. I saw him pass by me. He must’ve been the reason the body was already gone,” Parrish says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek narrows his eyes. “The body was gone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, someone moved it or maybe cremated it,” Parrish says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd shakes his head. “Slow down,” he says. “I feel like I’m missing something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Der, what’s going on?” Erica asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tells them the story he told Parrish. Just like before, he leaves out the part about Stiles. A murder is one thing. Telling them about a whole pack of humans living somewhere on Hale land is a whole different beast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finishes, there’s a heavy silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you been dealing with this alone?” Boyd asks, he looks horrified by the notion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head. There’s no good way to confess that he didn’t want anyone to suffer with him, so he chose to suffer alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd seems to hear the unspoken words. He pulls his alpha into a hug. It’s bone crushing and everything that Derek needs. When they pull apart, Erica speaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So someone needs to kill every member of the Hale pack to break the wards around the Hale land?” she asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deaton and I think they’re trying to get to something called the nemeton. There’s magic in it, and if one of the killers has a spark, then they’re probably planning on finding a way to tap into that magic,” Derek explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shifters can’t do that kind of magic,” Boyd says. “Real magic died with humans. The only people who believe otherwise are–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Conspiracy theorists,” everyone finishes the sentence for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek takes a moment to look at his pack member’s faces as they digest the information. Isaac is biting his nails. Erica is looking at Boyd, and he’s looking back at her. Parrish is looking down at his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the situation was less life threatening, Derek would call it absurd. A group of conspiracy theorists are trying to kill his pack so they get their hands on an extinct species living in the bowels of Hale land. Derek could laugh if the urge to cry wasn’t so strong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do they need to kill every member of the Hale pack or just the Hale bloodline to break the wards?” Parrish asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes shift to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the murderers just need to end the Hale bloodline, then Derek is the only shifter at risk. But if the wards will still be standing after his death, then everyone is in danger. Plus the wards have been around for so long even an emissary might not know how the magic works.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Derek admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to assume that no one is safe,” Parrish says. “Alpha Hale, I recommend that your pack lays low. No work. No class. Everyone travels in pairs. The killers are cleaning house right now. That means they’re here in Beacon Hills and they’re most likely planning another attack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll do that,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m also going to advise you guys to not talk to </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the police department,” Parrish adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s another heavy silence. Derek realizes the only people they can truly trust are the ones standing in this room with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way to figure this out,” Derek says. He’s sorry for the craziness he’s dragged them into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica places a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll figure this out,” she says. Her voice is hard and her eyes are filled with that familiar fire that made them fast friends in high school when she would drag him into mischievous adventures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s right, Der. You don’t get to do this alone. We’re pack; we’re going to do this with you,” Boyd adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The five of them spend another few moments in Erica and Boyd’s kitchen. None of them have anything left to say, but they’re all reluctant to leave each other’s presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After an eternity of silence, Parrish announces that he has to go back to the station. Derek and Isaac decide to spend the night at Erica and Boyd’s. Isaac sleeps in his old room while Derek gets the sofa. He feels comforted by the knowledge that his pack is nearby, but his thoughts begin to drift the longer he lays there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body is with his pack, but his mind is out in the preserve. He wonders what Stiles is doing. He should be safe if he’s with his pack. Stiles should be deep in the boundaries with Scott and Allison and Lydia and his dad. He probably isn’t even thinking about Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lies there, wide awake until the sun starts to creep over the horizon and the light turns a deep blue. Unable to stay on the sofa any longer, Derek slips out the house’s back door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finds himself in front of the Hale house. He stares up at its rotted frame before collapsing onto the front step. He bows his head down so that his head rests on his knees and he takes a shaky breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He isn’t sure how long he spends out there, but he can feel the air around him heat up as the sun climbs higher in the sky. As the air brightens, he realizes that Stiles isn’t coming back. Derek told him to leave, and he listened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What am I doing here?” Derek asks himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had that same question,” a familiar voice responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s heart stops. He has to be imagining things. That voice...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, it’s impossible. The wind blows and a familiar scent hits his nose. His stomach lurches and he isn’t sure if it's with fear or anticipation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A woman emerges from the trees. Her long blonde hair and confident steps are mesmerizing. Derek isn’t sure if he wants to run to her or from her. Either way, his world is being turned upside down for what has to be the thousandth time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kate,” he says, his voice breaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, puppy,” she drawls.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kate approaches Derek with a serene smile on her face as if she hasn’t just reappeared from the dead. She sits down next to him, real and whole. There isn’t a burn mark anywhere on her pale skin. He wants to drag his fingers across every inch of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Kate asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I– I just–I can’t–How?” Derek stutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mind is turning over and over. The police told him–he chokes on a laugh. He should know not to trust the police. Although, it doesn’t make sense that she survived. Hell, he mourned her, and now, she’s here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got lucky,” she says. Her face twists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wonders if she’s remembering that summer night. The air was already hot and the fire only made it hotter. Derek was in the ambulance wailing, a noise that ripped through his core and echoed down he and Laura’s pack bonds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smell had been thick and overwhelming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Burnt flesh and death and ash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t even hear anything over the sounds of his own cries and the roar of the fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A month later, when Peter woke from his coma, he told Derek that the air was filled with the pack’s screams and howls of pain, each voice representing a pack bond that was being severed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek has always felt equal parts thankful and guilty that he and Laura were across town when the fire started. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got lucky,” Derek says, dumbstruck by the simplicity of her answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate turns to look at him. She lifts a finger to his face, hesitating before it can make contact with his skin. He smiles at her, and she smiles back before dragging her finger across his eyebrows down the side of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve missed you so much, Der-bear,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They come together like a collision. Her lips feel bruising against his. The fierceness of it startles him for a moment, but he finds himself falling back into the rhythm of kissing her. His tongue traces the curve of her lower lip. He buries his fingers in her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s mesmerized by the shape of her, the taste of her, the feel of her. He’s addicted to the feeling of her soft skin beneath the pads of his fingers. Her hands slip under his shirt, and he can feel her claws dance across his chest, leaving tiny scars that heal before they can fully form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swings her leg over his so that she can straddle him. He pulls her closer, his hands exploring every inch of her skin. Needing to feel more of her, he slips his hands beneath her shirt so his thumbs can trace the curves of her hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A twig snaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pulls Kate off of him. He sees a rustle in the trees and what he swears is a deerskin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles,” he breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s a Stiles?” Kate asks. She gets to her feet, her attention shifting to the tree line</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tugs on Kate’s hand trying to pull her back towards him and make her forget about what she just saw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you hiding, Derek?” Kate asks. She narrows her eyes, and the smile that flits across her face sends chills down his spine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate darts towards the trees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn, Derek forgot how fast she is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Derek realizes he needs to move, she’s already crouched near the trees and sniffing the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t smell anything unusual,” she murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s heart is hammering. He’s seconds away from a full blown panic attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kate, c’mon, there’s nothing out here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns to look at him, and he doesn’t even recognize her. That grin is still plastered on her face, giving him a glimpse of fangs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re lying to me, Derek,” Kate whispers. Her voice is flat, emotionless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something shifts between them. Derek’s fear is keeping him rooted to the spot. He’s unable to look away from her as if she’s a wild animal that could attack him at any moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate touches some trampled leaves. Her eyes flit around the scene, and Derek remembers that she and her father hunt together often, shifted and tracking down their prey as if it were the olden days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoever it was is on two legs and is moving fast. They left a trail. Small, but still there,” Kate mutters. She’s speaking more to herself than Derek. It’s as if she’s completely disregarded his presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes off again, but this time, Derek is prepared. He follows her through the trees still trying to figure out a way to get her to give up this chase. She pauses every and now and then to check the ground for trampled twigs or footprints. He already knows the direction they’re heading in, but he knows every time Kate has to stop and analyze her surroundings, Stiles is putting more distance between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, each step forward they take makes him more and more nervous. He wants to beg her to come back to the Hale house with him, but he knows what she’s like when she has an idea. She’s going to see this through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re doubling back,” Kate says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kate, c’mon just give it up,” Derek begs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ignores him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He follows her as she leads him in a semi loop back to the Hale house. She’s speeding up, now, as the trail curves back south, towards the nemeton and Stiles’ tribe. Her fangs are fully extending now, making it impossible for her to close her mouth. It’s the same face she used to make before taking down a big kill while hunting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can hear them,” Kate says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leaps over a log and slides down a ravine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lets her go ahead and takes another route, a faster route, to the trail he thinks Stiles is taking. He comes out in a thick tangle of branches and when he emerges from the thicket of leaves, there’s a knife pressed against his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to stop meeting like this,” Derek breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He strains his ears. It sounds like Kate is doubling back again. Derek doesn't believe in a God, but if he did, he would be on his knees praising Him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who was with you?” Stiles asks, just as out of breath as Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a complicated question,” Derek responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knife presses down harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s my fiancé. I thought she died in the house fire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ mouth falls open. Derek can see the man turning this information over in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bead of sweat rolls down Stiles’ neck, and Derek longs to follow its trail with his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere in the distance, there’s a frustrated roar. Derek shakes his head. He can’t think of Stiles like this. He has his fiancé back– a fiancé that’s the same species as him, unlike Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles, it isn’t safe right now,” Derek says. He thinks of the grin on Kate’s face, and he isn’t sure how she would react to finding a human in the woods. No doubt, if she found Stiles, she wouldn’t stop until she found the rest of his tribe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles lowers his knife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can take care of myself,” he hisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek cups Stiles’ face in his hands. “I know, but what about your tribe? Can all of them protect themselves if someone follows you back?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks away, his Adam’s apple bobbing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She saw you today,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles shakes his head. He pulls away from Derek and stalks away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek chases after him. He can’t have Stiles coming back to the house. He needs the man to really understand the danger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Staying away from each other is the only way we can keep the people we both love safe,” Derek pleads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate’s voice feels farther and farther away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are runes and wards that can keep everyone safe,” Stiles huffs. “If there are wards, then no one get in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk for another minute before Stiles stops, his back ramrod straight. He turns to look at Derek, his eyes narrowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“”We’re in the wards now,” Stiles says. The words come out staccato and short as if he’s forcing himself to stay calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why my skin feels weird? Is that magic?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alpha looks down at his arms where the hairs are standing on end. He looks around them, and the thick, old trees with their thick canopy of leaves feels dangerously familiar. It feels like the area where Peter died.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you inside the wards?” Stiles asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a Hale. My emissary says that centuries ago when humans were alive–“ Stiles frowns “–or when they had a bigger population, they put wards around something called a nemeton–“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To protect it from attracting too many creatures. Only humans and members of the pack that owned the land could enter the wards,” Stiles finishes the story for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek isn’t sure what else to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have the stories too. Old pages from an emissary book. I always thought it was more myth than fact. Humans and werewolves working together seemed impossible,” Stiles says. He clenches his hands into fists. “They hunted us down. They’re the reason we’re confined to this tiny patch of trees while they get the whole world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Derek whispers. He’s never thought about how it must feel to be a part of the last group of humans in existence. He wonders how much inadvertent pain he’s been causing Stiles by casually talking about his travels and his life in town when Stiles would never get to see it for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek isn’t sure who reaches out first, but somehow, his hand ends up in Stiles’. He gives the human’s hand a squeeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So then the stories are true. There are wolves who can enter the wards,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods. “Just my pack members, but no one except me and my emissary knows there are humans living near the nemeton. These days only conspiracy theorists believe that humans and magic still exist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tugs at Stiles’ hand to get the man to stop walking. Soon they’ll reach a part of the woods where Stiles will have to go on without him. He needs to tell Stiles what he knows before they separate. He needs Stiles and his tribe to be prepared for the worst case scenario. If he and his pack don’t survive, Stiles needs to be ready for an attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to tell you something,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks at Derek. He can see the seriousness on the alpha’s face, and he gives the wolf’s hand a reassuring squeeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone is trying to break down the wards by killing my pack,” Derek confesses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ face transforms. Concern and fear and sadness flit across his face. His hands cup Derek’s cheeks, and Derek leans into the touch, finding comfort in Stiles’ familiarity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone is trying to kill you?” Stiles asks. His voice catches at the end of the sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They won’t,” Derek promises. He turns his head to press a kiss to Stiles’ palm. He knows that he needs to stay alive not just for his pack, but also for the man standing in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A voice at the back of his mind reminds him that he should also be trying to stay alive for Kate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me help. I can make you a protection charm or ward your homes,” Stiles suggests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t. Having magic around will only draw more attention,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles opens his mouth to argue, but Derek pushes on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides, if my pack dies and the wards fall, I know you’d rather be inside with your tribe where you could protect them,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a silence as the worst case scenario goes through both of their minds. A centuries old secret, a pack of humans, suddenly discovered by a group of murderers. Would Stiles’ tribe be slaughtered? Enslaved? Put in a zoo?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles presses his forehead against Derek’s. The man takes a shaky breath and Derek places a warm, comforting hand across his back. He delivers a quick kiss to Stiles’ forehead, but when he pulls away, Stiles fingers find the lapels of his leather jacket to pull him in closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their second kiss is slower. The sounds of the forest get drowned out by the sound of Derek’s heart pounding in his eardrums and the small gasps Stiles’ makes when Derek tugs on his hair. The alpha finds himself pouring every ounce of emotion he’s feeling into that kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles has tears streaming down his face when they separate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want to keep you and your pack safe,” Derek admits, quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stand there for another moment, still wrapped in an embrace. Derek takes a moment to look at Stiles. He tries to drink in every inch of his face: his brown eyes, his smatter of moles, his hair that looks black in the shadows but a brilliant brown in sunlight. Derek wants to commit it all to memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should go,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head. He doesn’t trust his mouth to form words. If he parts his lips, he’ll do something stupid like beg Stiles to stay with him. Derek bites his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles takes a step back and then another. Derek watches him until he vanishes into the trees. Once he’s sure that Stiles is gone, Derek walks back to the Hale house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek isn’t surprised that Kate is still there. She’s shifted into her beta form, spots covering her forehead and neck. Frustrated growls slips through her lips as she drags her claws down a tree that’s already covered in deep gashes. She turns when Derek comes closer, and everything about her screams predator.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wonders who’s the prey in this situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who was in the woods?” She hisses. The anger rolls off her in waves that almost startle him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t tell you that, Kate,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels defeated. If this was a month ago, he would be ecstatic that she was back. Now, he feels conflicted. He’s torn between the feelings he had for her before the fire and the feelings he has for Stiles now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate walks over to him, her hips swinging with each step. Her face shifts back to smooth lines and she smiles at him with blunt teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“New girlfriend,” she asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Derek closes his eyes. Exhaustion is starting to creep up on him, making the space behind his eyelids throb with a dull ache.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kate,” he sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“New boyfriend,” she tries again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in Derek’s reaction or lack of reaction must give him away because she lets out a dry laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind, Der-bear,” she says. “I was dead, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek opens his eyes, his gaze catching on the gold necklace she’s wearing which displays her family crest. He wants to say something to her, but nothing comes to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate wraps her arms around him, one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his chest. The motion feels equal parts comforting and threatening. Derek has to beat back the urge to flash his eyes at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did you go when you met him?” She asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You led me there, Kate,” he says. In a way, it is the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate frowns. Derek can the frustration dancing behind her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was in front of you. I was moving in a damn straight line. Then I fucking– somehow, I ended up going in circles. It doesn’t make sense,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek smooths a hand over her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wrenches herself out of his grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get it,” she growls. Her eyes flash blue momentarily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can be honest. He can tell her about the wards, the fire, the murders, all of it. For some reason, he keeps quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go back to my loft,” he suggests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’ll call you later,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stomps off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of him wants to chase after her. Another part of him wants to run back into the preserve and find Stiles.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Erica is on Derek’s case as soon as he steps back into the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek, what the hell?” She hisses. “You tell us there are murderers looking for you then you just go fucking ghost on us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd and Isaac are watching from the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’ve seen a ghost,” Derek murmurs. His mind is still back in the woods despite his body being with his pack in Beacon Hills.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica’s lips pucker. “What the fuck does that mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw Kate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica’s anger rushes out of her. She gapes at Derek, struggling to understand the words that have just come out of her alpha’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd speaks up, “Don’t you ever get tired of dropping these bombshells on us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can’t help it. He laughs. The sound bubbles up from his gut and spills out over his lips. He doubles over from the force of it. Soon, there are tears streaming down his cheeks. In another instant, he’s sobbing. Full body cries that shakes his whole body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd’s arms wrap around him, anchoring him. He collapses into his beta’s arms unable to hold himself up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to be happy she survived the fire,” Erica says. She lays a hand on his back, right over his pack tattoo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shrugs. “It’s fucking complicated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because of the secret boyfriend?” Isaac asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boy whistles. “Every day is a surprise with you, Der.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles and I wouldn’t have worked out. His pack is pretty isolated,” Derek says, skirting around the whole truth but not saying an outright lie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts crying again, and for the second time in less than 24 hours, he’s grateful that his pack is here so he doesn’t have to go through this alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes him a while, but he manages to stop crying and to stand on his own two feet. Erica gets him settled at the kitchen table with a bowl of leftover chili that she’s reheated on the stove. He pushes the ground beef and beans around his plate while Isaac taps away on his phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That thing is going to rot your brain,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac looks up at his alpha through a flop of curly hair, “What will?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek points his red-tinted spoon at Isaac’s phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are such a dad,” Isaac whines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup shoves his phone in his pocket and returns to his own bowl of chili. He makes an exaggerated show of shoveling the food in his mouth and chewing so dramatically that every bite reveals mashed up food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Disgusting,” Derek says. He tosses a napkin at the pup, trying not to laugh so he doesn’t encourage Isaac’s behavior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finish their food before saying goodbye to Erica and Boyd and heading out to Derek’s car. They take the long way home; neither one of them in a rush to get back to the loft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we get ice cream?” Isaac asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you want,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls the Camaro into the parking lot of the ice cream place. There’s a pair of middle school girls milling around outside with scoops of ice cream that wobble precariously on their cones. The air feels like it’s holding the promise of a storm that’s still a few hours out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek ruffles Isaac’s hair as they climb out the car, laughing at the way the pup swats at him. The action reminds him of Laura.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get me a milkshake,” Derek says, passing Isaac a crumpled ten dollar bill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac mutters a reply and takes the money to the counter while Derek sits on a bench to wait. One of the middle school girls gets a smear of chocolate ice cream on her cheek and her friend leans over to wipe at it with a napkin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They catch his gaze and flush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alpha Hale,” they greet him, using the formality that their parents must’ve pounded into their head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek smiles and waves at them. His mother would have known their names and the names of their parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A minivan pulls up to the curb with a woman inside that must be one of their parents. The girls climb inside still eating their ice cream. The door slam shuts behind him and the van putters its way down the road and away from the small shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek digs in his pocket for a cigarette. He’s about to light it when he sees the deputy, the killer, standing across the street. He smiles all sharp teeth, and Derek notices that his claws are extended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pup,” Derek calls out. He keeps his voice low and slides the cigarette back in his pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind blows, carrying a familiar scent under the man’s cologne. Kate. Derek’s blood runs cold. This shifter has gotten to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek moves to the counter where Isaac is still struggling to pick out an ice cream flavor. He grabs the pup’s elbow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go,” he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m not–“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now,” Derek says. His eyes flash red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac’s argument dies on his lip. He nods his head and lets Derek manhandle him into the car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Text Erica and Boyd,” Derek says once they're driving on the main road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He keeps an eye on the rear view mirror where a deputy’s car is tailing them. Derek makes a sharp turn, frowning when the car follows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac seems to have picked up on the situation. His eyes are glued on the headlights of the car that’s pursuing them. The scent of fear is clogging up the car, and Derek can feel his hair stand on end in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac’s phone chimes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erica and Boyd say they’re going to Deaton’s. They don’t think anyone is following them,” Isaac says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good. The killer must think they just need to kill the last living Hale and not the entire pack. For now, Erica and Boyd should be safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek makes another sharp turn. Ahead of him, a green stop light turns yellow. Derek presses down on the gas. The front bumper crosses over the intersection just before the light turns red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pair of headlights flood the interior of the Camaro.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seconds later, Derek feels the wheel wrench out of his control. Glass explodes from the driver side window and launches across Derek’s face. The door caves inward pressing into his leg. Derek can feel the car spin one, two, three times before coming to a stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head lolls to the side where he can see Isaac cradling his bloody head. Derek swipes a claw across the pup’s seatbelt to let him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can hear a car door open and police sirens wail in the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The preserve,” Derek croaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac flings open the passenger door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek groans. Every cell in his body is pulsing with pain. The red and blue lights behind him make his head pound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The alpha is still alive,” the deputy’s voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get the boy. We’ll finish the alpha,” another voice says. It belongs to someone older, someone familiar, but Derek can’t quite place it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Footsteps approach the driver’s side of the car. He waits until the person is right outside the driver’s door. A gun cocks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek slams the door open so hard it flies off its hinges. It hits the person on the other side causing them to bowl over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek leaps across the car so he can crawl out of the passenger side. He shifts into his beta form, and his vision washes red as he bursts through the tree line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can smell Isaac up ahead. The pup is running towards Hale house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him, Derek can hear two sets of footsteps. His door trick didn’t keep them down for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pop sounds off behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tree branch to his left explodes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You idiot,” the older man yells. “No guns. It’s harder to explain when they find the bodies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek feels a growl start to build in his chest. He can’t let them get to Isaac. He takes a page of Stiles’s book. He doubles back on his path, making sure to leave a visible trail leading away from the Hale house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leads them back towards town then emerges from the trees so he can cut through the library parking lot. He knows they won’t follow him in plain sight, so he slows to a trot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sticking to dark alleys and streets with broken lights, he navigates back to the entrance of the preserve. He can hear Isaac stumbling towards the Hale house. Derek meets him there, grateful that the pup is unharmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know where they went,” Isaac pants as he gulps in air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head. “We can’t stop here. We need to–“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another gunshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bullet strikes the doors to the Hale house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This way,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leads them south.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn,” the deputy curses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek hears the cop start to chase after them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woods feel menacing tonight. The night sky is clear and moonless with thick clouds that blot out the stars. Every time Derek rounds a corner or leaps over a log, he half expects one of the murderers to step out from the shadows with a gun trained at his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek,” a sing-song voice calls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek comes to a stop. He looks behind him where the voice is coming from. Isaac stops too. His too big eyes are locked onto Derek. The pup opens his mouth, but closes it without saying anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek, where are you?” Kate’s voice again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kate,” Derek responds around a mouthful of fangs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She calls out to him again, and he tips his head back to let out a howl in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart hammers in his chest. He thought the deputy had gotten to her. He was prepared to mourn her again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She steps out of the trees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek what are you doing?” She asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes land on Isaac. Derek sees several emotions play out on her face, but he can’t decipher any of them. The months away from her has made it harder for him to read her reactions or predict her actions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is this?” She asks. She flashes Isaac a sweet smile, but the pup still looks wary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to get out of here, Kate. It isn’t safe,” Derek responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The deputy steps out of the trees. There’s a grin on his face that reminds Derek of the face Erica’s childhood cat used to make before catching a rodent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek growls at the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” He asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes dart between Kate, who still looks relaxed, and Isaac. They’re standing too far apart. He can’t protect both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The deputy laughs. He points his gun at Derek, and the alpha’s hackles raise. This guy is a cop. His gun most likely is loaded with wolfsbane bullets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought we said no guns,” Kate says, a pout on her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s head whips around to look at her as he finally realizes her role in all of this. That’s how she survived. That’s probably how they even met. She’s the one who orchestrated the deaths of his family members. His vision swims and he tries to blink through the tears that are clouding his vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her photo was on Peter’s board with that damning red line connecting her to so many different pieces of that puzzle. His uncle knew. This whole time, he had known and left the evidence for Derek who couldn’t tie it all together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gerard said no guns,” the deputy responds. His voice sounds tinny as if it’s coming from miles away instead of a mere five feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The name jolts Derek. Gerard Argent. Kate’s father who taught her how to hunt. Gerard must’ve been the person who had given the deputy the order to kill Derek after the car accident.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can feel his chest tighten. Each breath feels like a fight, as if he’s forcing an unwilling gasp of air into his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Poor Der-bear,” Kate coos. Her voice dripping in venom. “Are you just now figuring it all out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her features transform until she’s shifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The angles of her face blur together. He blinks and his vision flits between black and red. He can’t concentrate on what she and the deputy are saying. He can’t gather his thoughts together</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bang!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac drops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate leaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instinct takes over. Derek’s body moves to protect pack. He pivots on the ball of his right foot. His hand grabs Kate’s arm. Her momentum rotates his torso and he uses the force to swing her around and send her flying into the deputy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They crash to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek turns to look at Isaac who’s staggering to his feet with a hand clutched to his upper arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alpha jerks his head and the two take off. Derek can hear Kate’s frustrated growl behind them. She’s always been fast. She’ll catch them unless they can beat her to the wards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A howl comes from their left, deep and guttural. It’s a clear hunting call. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gerard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind them, Kate’s response. Higher pitched but just as vicious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek pushes himself to run faster and pray that the wards appear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air starts to crackle around him. It’s the similar feeling he experienced earlier with Stiles. Now, with his senses heightened, he can even smell the ozone in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could almost sob in relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a growl behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Kate roars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claws graze Derek’s back, ripping through his leather jacket, T-shirt, and skin like a warm knife slices through a block of butter. Pain blooms between Derek’s shoulder blades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The force of Kate’s attack sends Derek stumbling forwards. He rolls forward, tumbling past Isaac and capturing a mouthful of dirt and damp leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate howls again. This time, she sounds further away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pained laugh escapes Derek. They made it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek,” Isaac whimpers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alpha climbs to his feet. Red eyes meet amber. Isaac’s throat bobs. Sweat coats his skin, which has gone ash white. Derek can smell the stench of wolfsbane poisoning. Deaton could burn it out, but it’s too risky to drag an injured beta back through these woods with three other shifters hunting them down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tries not to think about how one of those shifters is his fiance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he thinks about his mother, her guiding and anchoring presence. He tries to channel some of that energy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes the only way out of a bad situation is to go through it,” she used to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek's wounds are already starting to heal, the pain transforming into a familiar heat. He throws an arm around the pup’s waist and grits his teeth when the pup’s arm grazes the not-quite-healed claw marks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac’s breathing is more labored, but the pup grits his teeth and pushes through the pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woods that they stumble through are darker than the ones that make up the Hale land. Derek knows that this patch of earth hasn’t been disturbed by shifters in centuries and that knowledge makes the path they’re walking feel eerie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wonders if his mother knew what was hidden on her land, if she ever came this deep into the trees and discovered the secrets that these woods hold. Maybe she thought the stories about magic and humans were just fairy tales only children and insane shifters believed in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter discovered the truth though. He figured it out in a couple of months, and Kate murdered him for that. And almost a year ago, she murdered the rest of his family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air shifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A twig snaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shoves Isaac behind him with his right arm. With his left, he catches the arrow that’s sailing towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to hurt you,” Derek says. His fangs make him slur the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shifts his features back so that he appears more human and less wolf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another arrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time Derek moves himself and Isaac out of the way. The tip of the projectile brushes past his arm. He looks in the direction where the arrows are coming. He could see better if he used his alpha vision, but he doesn’t want to provoke them any more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a friend. I need help,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to listen to the humans’ heartbeats. He can hear one, nice and calm in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tha-thump</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek turns, but he’s too slow. The figure is already advancing on him and Isaac. It’s face is obscured by a wolf mask, black and menacing in the moonless night. A curved blade swings down at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lifts a hand, and the blade’s edge catches his forearm instead of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek,” Isaac calls out in concern. He’s too weak from the wolfsbane to do anything except loll his head to the side and stagger into a tree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blade comes down again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, I need to talk to Stiles,” Derek cries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blade stops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wooden wolf cocks its head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek could take advantage of its hesitation. One swipe of his claws and it’ll have a wound that won’t heal. Instead of acting on the instinct, Derek stands as still as a rock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, he’s dying,” he points towards Isaac.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The human doesn’t follow his finger. The black eye holes of the wolf stay trained on Derek’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just– Stiles knows me,” Derek tries again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blabbers on describing Stiles and trying to reassure the human with the knife that he’s not a threat. He’s begging, and the alpha in him is disgusted by it, but there’s no other way to keep the pup alive. If he can’t get to Stiles, if he can’t convince these humans to help him, Isaac will die. The knife glints in the dark as the human shifts his grip. Derek might die too, and wouldn’t that be poetic. Derek’s throat being sliced open in the same spot where he killed Peter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek?” The human asks with the same accent as Stiles. It breaks his names into two separate words with a small pause between: Der’ek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I know Stiles,” Derek says again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something like hope is blossoming within him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another voice, higher pitched and more feminine, comes from the trees. This human speaks in the same strange language that Stiles spoke in when they first met. A second figure steps out from the trees holding a bow and arrow. The arrow is knocked and aimed at Derek's head. It’s a risky shot with another human standing so close to him, but Derek is certain that this human doesn’t miss often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a friend of Stiles,” the first human says in response to her statement, speaking in English for Derek’s benefit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls off his mask to reveal a boyish face with floppy hair, big hairs, and a lopsided jaw. He smiles down at Derek, but the alpha can’t bring himself to return the gesture with that curved blade so close to his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second human spits out a reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trust me. Stiles knows this wolf, and if he came out here, then he has an important reason,” the human with the knife says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sheaths his weapon and offers a hand to help Isaac to his feet. He huffs when he realizes how heavy the pup is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Scott,” he says, his smile unwavering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek thinks this human, Scott, could smile through the apocalypse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Derek. That’s Isaac,” Derek replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac smiles. The expression looks strained considering the sorry state he’s in. His skin is an alabaster white with black tinted veins collecting a bundle on his arm and spreading like tendrils towards his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to get him to someone who can help heal him,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott looks at Isaac. His eyebrows knit together. “I thought wolves could heal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s wolfsbane poisoning,” the woman says. She takes off her own mask to reveal a head of red hair pulled into two tight braids. A scar travels the entire width of her neck as if someone slit her throat a while ago. When Derek locks eyes with her, and he feels like a trickle of ice water has been tipped down his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shifts her gaze to Isaac, who’s now coughing up black liquid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He won’t die tonight,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulls out a bundle of ropes. It’s braided with purple flowers that would’ve looked beautiful if they weren't clearly a form of wolfsbane. Even from this distance, Derek’s eyes are watering from the smell. He’s never been around a form of wolfsbane that’s so potent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wrists,” the woman demands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott flashes Derek a smile and a shrug as if to say what are you going to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek bites back a growl and holds out his wrists. She places the rope along Derek’s skin, and the flesh begins to bubble and burn where it makes contact with the braided fabric. He clenches his teeth together to fight through the pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Derek’s hands are restrained, the group moves forward. Scott has arranged Isaac’s body across his shoulders in the same way Kate’s father used to carry felled deer. Derek wonders if he’s leading his pup straight into the slaughterhouse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of them exit the trees and step into a village that sucks Derek’s breath away. He thought seeing three humans was crazy, but this was downright insane. Inside of a giant clearing there are rows and rows of tents, arranged in a grid formation. A few older children who are kicking a ball, pause to gape at Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple of the adults freeze, all conversations dying as they process the shifters that are being led into their camp. They’re all wearing furs, deep browns and whites that look more relaxed than the black ones that Scott and the woman are wearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott takes them around the outskirts of the camp. Still, the activity is bustling here. People are cooking around fires or poking their heads out of tents to gape at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s eyes land on a small girl and she shrieks before diving to hide behind her mother’s legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite the welcome, eh?” Scott says with a light hearted chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They round a curve and ahead of them is a tent that’s ten times the size of the others. But that isn’t what catches Derek’s eye. His gaze is glued on the massive tree stump beside the tent. It’s so huge that Derek could lie on it spread eagle without his fingertips reaching either edge. Some of its gnarled roots poke out from the ground, and from their thick size, he can tell that this tree might be the oldest thing in these woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk closer to the tree stump, and gooseflesh forms on Derek’s arms. Here, the smell of ozone is overpowering. The air crackles and hums with a life that feels electric. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tree stump isn’t the same as the intricate, full of life tree that Deaton showed him in his book, but all the same, Derek knows that this is the nemeton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A man steps out of the massive tent. He’s older with a streak of gray hair and hard eyes. Behind him is Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s stomach drops to his knees. Unlike the other times they’ve seen each other, Stiles doesn’t have any weapons on his person. He also doesn’t have his wolf mask. Instead he’s wearing dark brown furs and shoes that look like they’re more for comfort than running and jumping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scott, Lydia, what is the meaning of this?” The man asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Councilman Stilinski, we bring you two captives. These wolves were found inside the wards,” Lydia says. She keeps her voice low so that no one aside from the five of them can hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The council turns to look at Derek. His lips are pressed into a thin line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These aren’t omegas. Their alpha will be looking for them,” he says, voice tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles casts a worried look at Derek. Lydia catches the glance and lifts an eyebrow in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is an alpha,” Scott replies. His smile has gone from amused to sheepish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Councilman Stilinksi sucks in a breath. He looks at Derek, fear flashing across his face for an instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father, these wolves are not dangerous,” Stiles says, his voice low.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The councilman turns to look at Stiles, and the younger man pales.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What have the three of you done?” He asks. He looks at Derek again, then sighs. “Bring them inside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The interior of the tent is spacious. There’s a large wooden table with a long bench at the far side. In front of the table there are rows of pillows, which Derek assumes is for sitting. It’s clear that this is a meeting place for the tribe to gather and voice their opinions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wonders if a mob is heading here now with pitchforks and torches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Councilman Stilisnki sits at the bench, and his shoulders curve forward as if that brief conversation has suddenly aged him another decade. Stiles hovers near his father, babbling in his native language. His eyes flit between the councilman whose face remains expressionless and Derek who probably isn’t doing a good job at keeping his emotions hidden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I”ll take the sick one to my mom. She’ll heal him,” Scott says. He shoots Stiles a grin and a wave before ambling out of the tent with Isaac still slung across the shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek supposes he should be glad that not everyone is bothered by the tense atmosphere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, it’s taking every inch of his self control to not chase after Scott. Every instinct in his body is telling him not to let the strange human carry his dying pack member to an unknown location. However, he knows that Scott is Isaac’s only hope at survival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallows down a whine and forces himself to look back at the humans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia is lounging on a pillow, twirling an arrow between her fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He will not die tonight,” Lydia says, repeating the same sentence she said earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek swallows. The wolfsbane poisoning was bad, and Isaac is still a pup. He might recover if Scott’s mom knows what she’s doing. But if they took too long getting back here and the wolfsbane has already reached Isaac’s heart then...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek blinks back tears. The memory of his uncle comes rushing back at him. The only reason his uncle survived the wolfsbane poisoning is because he had stolen Laura’s alpha strength. Even then, he had gone feral.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derke can feel his uncle’s blood, thick and sticky, beneath his fingernails. The air feels heavy with the smell and taste of iron and wolfsbane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The human’s face is inches from the alpha’s. Stiles’ hands hover in the air as if he wants to touch Derek, but isn’t sure if he should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s hyper aware of Lydia and the councilman’s gazes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know he’ll survive?” Derek asks, hoping to distract the both of them from how familiar he and Stiles with each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia smiles at him, and for a second, Derek realizes how beautiful she is. “I can taste when death is near,” she says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tent flap opens again, and a man strides in. He’s dressed for combat in all black furs with two curved blades and a short dagger on his hips. His beard is gruff and his gaze packs more punch than Stilinski’s did. He touches the hilt of his curved blades when he sees Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Councilman Stilinski, what’s the meaning of this,” the man barks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A girl steps in after him. She’s dressed for a fight as well. Unlike the man, who must be her father, she has a bow and arrow. Around her neck is the same pendant that he saw on Kate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Councilman Argent, Allison,” Councilman Stilinski greets the two. He gestures to the seat beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Councilman Argent sits to the right of Stilinski, frowning already. Derek stares at every feature on his face, his deep set eyes, choppy haircut, scarred upper lip, looking to find a resemblance to Gerard and Kate. But their appearances feel like night and day, the only similarities being light hair and a cold demeanor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allison approaches Lydia. Her eyes are glued to Derek, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief swirling in the brown orbs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Scott?” she asks. The movement of her neck draws more attention to the pendant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek sniffs the air. Neither she nor her father smell like wolves or any other type of shifter. Her heartbeat is also louder than a wolf’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No doubt about it: the two of them are human. Still, they have the same name and the same family crest as his not-dead fiance and her father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scott’s with his mother. They’re healing the other wolf,” Lydia says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it’s true. There are two of them. Here,” Allison says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re an Argent? Like the French family?” Derek asks her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allison stiffens. Her hand goes to her bow. Her lips press shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Guess she isn’t planning on talking to Derek then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opens again, and a woman walks in. She looks regal. Her back is straight with her hair braided into an intricate pattern. She looks at Derek and Lydia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Daughter, I thought you were smarter than this,” she says, her tone careful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia smiles but her grip on her arrow tightens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Councilwoman Martin,” Stilinski says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He offers her a smile. She doesn’t return it. Instead, she squeezes his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods help us,” she mutters as she takes her seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles stands up. He tugs at the hem of his furs as the councilmembers eyes drift towards him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Councilmembers, there is a threat in these woods,” he begins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve brought it into the camp,” Councilman Argent hisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek wants to take back his earlier assessment. The longer he’s around this councilman, the more he’s convinced that he carries himself with the same poise as Gerard. Derek has no doubt that Councilman Argent would cut him down without a second thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let him finish,” Councilwoman Martin says. Her eyes flit to Derek, who’s beginning to feel like a freakshow attraction. Although, isn’t he? He’s the lone wolf in a room full of humans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are wolves trying to get into the wards. Derek came here to warn us,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know this?” Councilman Stilinski says at the same time Councilman Argent asks “How do you know this wolf’s name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles shifts under the men’s attention. The truth is there for everyone in the room to see, but Stiles can’t open his mouth and say it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia hops in, “Clearly, these wolves are Hales. They got past the wards. Two and a half months ago, another Hale was here. Now, two more. Something is happening. I can feel it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The council members grow silent at her words. They exchange uneasy glances, and he remembers the statement she made earlier. She can taste death. He wonders whose death is lingering on the tip of her tongue. His? His pack’s? Her tribe’s?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> happening. And if it’s death you’re sensing, then it’s because you’ve quite literally brought the wolf into the hen house,” Argent says. He waves a hand in Derek’s direction making the same motion Derek’s mother used to when shooing away an irritating fly . “We should kill the wolves and be done with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles lets out a shout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With all due respect councilman,” the energy in the room shifts as Derek speaks for the first time since entering the camp, “it’s in your best interest to keep me alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Councilman Argent’s face contorts into a look of fury, and the resemblance to Gerard, although distant, becomes clear as day. The human opens his mouth, but Stiles is already talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he’s a Hale then as long as he and his pack are alive, the wards around the tribe stay up and we stay hidden. If they die, what are we going to do? Create new wards? Nobody has done that since humans were allowed to walk the earth freely. We don’t even know if it’s possible; none of that information is in our ancient texts,” he argues.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence settles across the room as everyone digests what Stiles has just said. There’s a couple worried glances and a few more distrustful looks thrown his way. Derek tries to look as least threatening as he can, but he doubts any human in the room will be forgetting how dangerous he actually is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re supposed to trust the wolf when he says he’s the only thing keeping us safe?” Argent asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know the stories like the rest of us. Our ancestors trusted this pack,” Councilwoman Martin says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do we know we can still trust this pack? Their intentions could’ve changed over the years,” Argent says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The councilwoman purses her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles casts a worried look at Derek. The conversation isn’t heading in a positive direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac is still God knows where, but at least no one here is trying to shoot him. Well, the jury is still out on Argent. Although if more people start to side with the councilman, then things are going to get very grim for Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think,” Councilman Stilinski begins and all eyes turn to him, “I think if this wolf wanted to harm us, he would’ve already done it. Let’s not forget also that his pack member’s life is in our hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses to look at his son. Stiles stands tall beneath the gaze, but Derek can see the way his hands tremble at his sides. The wolf wants to place a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder, but he knows a move like that could be disastrous for them. He digs his claws into the fleshy meat of his palms instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s getting late. We should meet again tomorrow,” Stilisnki says. “Someone escort the wolf to a tent. Line it with mountain ash.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles moves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone who isn’t my son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia rises to her feet, moving with the kind of grace that reminds Derek of the dance students who lived in the apartment across from him in New York. She jerks her head at Derek, and he clambers to his feet to follow her outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s darker now with most of the stars twinkling overhead. Far from the city lights, it looks like there are thousands of them up there in the sky. He wishes the pup was with him so he could point out the constellations Laura showed him when he was little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the late hour, there are still a few humans milling around the tents. They huddle around fires laughing and talking. Like before, they grow quiet when they see Derek. They stare at him, fascinated, and he can’t help but stare back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A while ago, the existence of humans and magic was an absurd fantasy that only the craziest shifters believed in. Yet here they are. A whole tribe of them hidden away in the woods .</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a split second, he wonders if he’s lost his mind. For all he knows, he could be in a hospital bed with wolfsbane poisoning like his uncle, hallucinating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A child runs by with a wooden stick chasing another child who’s running on all fours and howling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like you’re about to wet yourself,” Lydia says. Her ice-like eyes are starting to thaw with some sort of amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. The hum of magic that surrounds him and the strange and smells are too fantastical to be figments of his imagination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just taking it all in,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia hums. She leads him a little ways further where the tents are starting to become more spread out, the fires less common.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can wait here for Stiles,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looks at her. She defended him in the tent even though she initially was going to kill him, and Scott was willing to risk taking two wolves into a human camp just because he knew that they were friends of Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be close friends with Stiles,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not close enough. He had a secret wolf lover that he never told me about,” she says, voice flat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks at Derek, the corner of her lip quirking upwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He told Scott though. Thank the Gods. If I had been patrolling with anyone else tonight, you might not be alive right now,” she says. Despite the morbid topic and her chilly demeanor, Derek realizes she’s somewhat amused by the whole situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s brain suddenly backpedals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, Stiles calls me his lover?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a pack member with wolfsbane poisoning, and the fate of your life is in the hands of a council of humans who were raised to distrust shifters, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the thing that’s concerning you?” Lydia asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs and even that sounds icy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can ask him yourself,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek doesn’t have to wait long. Stiles comes skidding around a tent at full speed, his whole face lighting up when he sees Derek. The human flings his arms around Derek’s shoulders and the alpha can’t help the way he melts into the embrace, burying his nose in the curve where Stiles’ neck meets his shoulder. The stubble on his jaw drags itself across Stiles’ cheek, pulling a content sigh from the human’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you Lydia,” Stiles says when he finally pulls himself out of the embrace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia waves a hand. “Anything for you, little brother,” she says. She looks at Derek again, and he wonders if he’ll ever grow used to that chilly stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t lying earlier today. I can sense something big brewing. Death will be here soon,” she warns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She starts to walk off, and Derek finds himself calling out her name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns mid-step, one eyebrow lifted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to ask her about her statement, wants to know if she’s tasting his death right now. The question dies on his lips. He isn’t sure that he’s ready for that kind of knowledge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he says instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia shakes her head. “Don’t thank me yet,” she says and then she’s gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles removes Derek’s restraints, hissing when he sees the burn marks on the wolf’s wrists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll heal,” Derek reassures him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles still looks worried, so Derek grabs his hand and presses his lips to the back of Stiles’ fingers. They stand like that for a moment just drinking in each other’s presence. When Derek finally drops Stiles’ hand, the human takes the opportunity to thread their fingers together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles leads him through the sparse throng of tents until they reach an empty one that’s set farther apart from the others. The inside of the tent is barren, dirt floors with a straw filled mattress in the center with a couple of furs tossed on top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek slumps onto it, exhausting hitting him like a bullet train. He watches through half open eyes as Stiles draws a line mountain ash across the entrance. The action reminds Derek that he’s still a prisoner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles flushes when he sees Derek watching him. “Sorry, my dad made me promise,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The human hovers in the doorway. He wrings his hands together as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dad is pissed. Actually, the whole council is pissed, but I’ve never seen him so... disappointed,” Stiles blurts. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to hide his tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek is on his feet in seconds. He pulls Stiles into a tight embrace, letting the human rest his head on Derek’s shoulder. One of Derek’s hands rubs comforting circles on Stiles’ lower back while the other grips the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. Your father will forgive you,” Derek murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Underneath his concern for Stiles, Derek is worrying about his ex fiance and her father who are still plotting on finding a way to get inside of these wards. If they can’t convince the council to help them and if Kate and Gerard succeed, then Stiles’ whole tribe will be destroyed. The thought sits with Derek, preventing him from fully relaxing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tests out the pack bond connecting himself to Isaac. The pup is still safe. That at least, brings some kind of peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek tugs Stiles down onto the mat with him. He runs his hands through Stiles’ hair, letting his fingers comb through the long strands. His eyes drink in every feature on the human’s face, cataloging each mole and freckle. He can feel Stiles doing the same to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” Derek whispers, dragging his thumb across the arch of Stiles’ brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not,” Stiles whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans in for a kiss.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Morning comes quickly. Sunlight pours through the gaps of the tent’s entrance, illuminating the interior. Derek sits up struggling to understand his strange surroundings. The smells feel overwhelming in their foreignness. He shifts, and sees Stiles lying beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yesterday’s events come rushing back to him. Kate being alive. Kate being the one who orchestrated his family’s death. Kate trying to kill him and the pup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, the pup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek closes his eyes, exhaustion weighing him down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzes in his back pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek feels a rush of relief. He pulls out the device. Its screen is cracked, but somehow he has two bars. God bless modern technology.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He types in his passcode to reveal a new message from Erica.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Where are you? 11:43 PM</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Is Isaac safe? 11:43 PM</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me and Boyd are freaking out 11:43 PM</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Parrish is coming to the vet 6:13 AM</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek bites his lip. The last text was sent not too long ago. If his packmates are still safe, then Kate and Gerard must still be in the woods. The two of them must be planning on taking Derek out first before going after the rest of the pack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a cold blooded but effective plan. The pack will still be reeling from the loss of their alpha, making them weaker and easier to pick off. The ruthlessness would be surprising if it were anyone other than Kate. She’s always been vicious when it comes to hunting prey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bile rises up in the back of his throat when he remembers that in her eyes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> the prey. While he had been planning a life with her, she had slaughtered his whole family. If Kate had her way, Derek would’ve burned with the rest of them, but dumb luck kept he and Laura safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time though, Derek knows what Kate is planning. He isn’t going to get blindsided again. They dated for six months before the fire, and during that time, he learned a lot while watching her hunt with her father. He knows that amount of shifters she likes to travel with, her strategy for taking down prey, and even the ways she enjoyed cornering them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t help but smile. He knows enough about her to be able to take her down. He’ll repay her in blood for the lives she took from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He texts Erica the beginnings of a plan, knowing she’ll pass the information along to Boyd and Parrish. Then he leans over to wake up Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The human is slow to wake. Groaning and tossing around for a moment before opening his eyes to blink up at Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re upset.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not upset,” Derek corrects, “just determined.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles sits up so that they’re face to face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you thinking?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In a moment,” Derek promises. He presses a kiss to Stiles’ forehead. “First, I need to see Isaac.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks like he wants to push Derek and force him to explain his pain right now, but after a moment, he nods his head, agreeing to the alpha’s wish. He lets Derek help him to his feet then shuffles over to the entrance so he can drag a toe across the line of mountain ash. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles doesn’t lead Derek through the center of the camp where Derek knows there’ll be at least a hundred or so humans milling about. Instead, they walk along the outskirts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they navigate their way through the tents, Derek starts to talk, explaining the parts of the plan that he sent to Erica. Stiles listens, interrupting every now and then to challenge parts of it and to give input on ways to improve it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek enjoys this side of Stiles. This isn’t Patrol Stiles, who wields a blade like it's an extension of his arm, or Playful Stiles, who wrestles with Derek until their play fighting leads to kissing. No, this is the Stiles whose father is a tribal leader and who has been raised to take over that role.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they arrive at the medical tent, Derek’s plan has been picked apart and rebuilt into a new one that’s ten times better than the original. He’s feeling confident and that feeling only grows when he pokes his head into the tent and sees Isaac sitting on a mat with Scott hovering beside him. The human is grinning with a piece of dried meat poking out of his mouth while Isaac blushes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you my mother could heal him,” Scott says when he sees Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac turns his head, a grin forming on his face when he sees his alpha. He launches himself into Derek’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek catches the pup easily, dragging one hand down his cheek and across his throat to scent  the pup. There aren’t any words that can describe his relief at seeing the pup whole and healthy after Isaac could barely hold his head up last night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, pup, I almost lost it,” Derek admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac pulls away from Derek, a sheepish smile on his face. “Yeah, I was pretty scared too, but Scott and his mom...” his words trail off as he looks at Scott, who still has a smile on his face. Derek would hate to see the situation that got the human to finally stop smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Derek says to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything for my brother’s lover,” Scott shoots back easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His word choice causes Derek, Isaac and Stiles to turn matching shades of red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s not talk about my alpha’s sex life,” Isaac pleads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re surprised your father has sex?” Scott asks. His grin is getting bigger each passing second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not my dad,” Isaac blurts at the same time Derek says, “I don’t have kids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott shakes his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought Isaac lived with you?” Scott says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He does,” Derek responds, wondering just how much information Isaac gave to the human while in this tent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you feed him, take him to school, talk to him about his day, give him advice?” Scott asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like my dad,” Stiles mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you know what school is?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Stiles can say something sarcastic, a woman enters the tent. She has a mop of curly dark hair and smile that reminds Derek of homemade cookies and lazy Sundays.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be Isaac’s father. I’m Melissa, Scott’s mom,” she introduces herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m his alpha,” Derek corrects her. He wonders how she and Scott can have such positive attitudes during such a chaotic situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isaac should be okay. Has Councilman Argent finally decided to send the wolves home?” Melissa asks Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she sees his guilty expression, she shakes her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never saw you,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek is a little amazed that so many people in this tribe are willing to help Stiles out despite the danger associated with shifters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to talk to Lydia and Allison. We have a plan,” Stiles says to Scott, back in leader mode.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott flashes Stiles his trademark grin, and the look that passes between them lets Derek know that their friendship must be built on causing mischief and stirring up trouble. Right now, he’s just grateful that their mischief is on his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott flings an arm across Isaac’s shoulders, and the poor pup flushes from the close contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get you guys to lady death,” Scott says, his voice cheerful despite the morbid turn that his words have taken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop calling her that,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Derek a second, but he eventually realizes that they’re talking about Lydia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can she really <em>taste</em> death?” Derek asks. He believed her when she said it, but he feels like he needs to hear the affirmation come from someone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s a wailing woman, a banshee,” Stiles says, wiggling his fingers and lowering his voice to give the words a spooky effect. Derek doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it just makes him sound constipated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles pokes his head out of the tent to check if the coast is clear. When he determines that it’s safe, he gestures for the rest of the group to follow him. When they step outside, the sun is higher in the sky, and there are more people who are walking around the tents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles grabs Derek’s arm to make it look more like he’s leading a prisoner than going out for a walk with a close friend. Although, without the wolfsbane rope, it's hard for Derek to believe that they’re really selling the act.  The people in the tribe don’t mention the lack of restraints. The fear that sparks when they see Derek and Isaac keeps them getting too close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they arrive at Lydia’s tent, she’s already standing outside, her cold gaze sending chills down Derek’s spine. She holds the flap open for them, and they step inside only to come face-to-face with the tip of an arrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allison, put that down,” Lydia says. She doesn’t sound concerned or surprised by the other girl’s aggressive stance. It’s as if the human always greets people with a weapon to the face. Although, given her distant relation to Kate and Gerard plus her father’s attitude regarding shifters, he wouldn’t be surprised if this was her version of a friendly hello.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can you trust them?” Allison asks. “You remember the rogue wolf. He was a Hale too, and he almost killed Lydia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek swallows. She’s talking about Peter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott steps around the alpha to look at Allison. His puppy dog eyes look round and sad. “I trust them,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allison frowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to trust the wolves, but you can trust me,” Scott says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next few seconds stretch out into an eternity. Derek’s gaze stays locked on Allison’s whose fingers are flexing and unflexing around the curved wood of her bow. She takes a deep breath then lowers the bow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to lead us into the wolves’ den,” Allison says, turning her gaze to Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steps forward, not backing down from her challenge. It’s a battle of wills, and judging from the way Scott and Lydia are watching them, Derek realizes that Stiles needs to have everyone on board. He isn’t going to make a decision or move forward with this plan unless he gets Allison’s approval. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better to attack first and catch them while they’re unaware,” Stiles argues. “You’re the best in battle strategy. You know that this is our best chance. If we wait for them to come to us, then the fight is already lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allison sighs. “I’ll do it. Not for you, but for the tribe,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott takes Allison’s begrudging acceptance with more joy than the rest of them. He wastes no time in smacking a quick kiss to her lips before collapsing onto a pile of pillows and blankets with a content smile on his face. Allison settles beside him, her body melting into his, but despite her relaxed body language, her eyes are still wary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles takes a seat near Scott, tugging Derek and Isaac down beside him. Isaac’s gaze is still locked onto Scott and Allison with something floating in his eyes that Derek can’t quite read.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once everyone is settled, Stiles fills everyone in on their plan. He’s leading the discussion but also making sure to ask for their input and making note of when someone has an idea that could improve their strategy. Watching him talk reminds Derek of Laura, a wolf who was born to be an alpha. He wonders if he could channel that same energy with his pack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allison is the first to talk when the plan is finished being discussed, “I feel like we’re taking a gamble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are. But the odds are with us,” Stiles replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods help us if you’re wrong,” Lydia mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott smiles at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Life wasn’t this exciting a week ago,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was for Stiles. He had a secret wolf boyfriend,” Lydia huffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles frowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised he managed to keep it a secret. He never shuts up,” Allison teases. She nudges Stiles with her foot from where she's half lying on a giant pillow and half sprawled across Scott’s lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew,” Scott teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek watches them joke around, realizing that the four humans are like any other group of young friends. Their banter reminds him of before the fire when he, Boyd and Erica would spend hours at the local ice cream shop. The memory makes something heavy settle in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ hand squeezes his. Derek looks at him, and the human’s eyes seem to be asking a simple question: </span>
  <em>
    <span>are you okay?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods, giving Stiles’ hand a squeeze back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They decide to wait until night to make their next move. They pass the time cracking jokes and laughing and pretending like they’re just a group of friends hanging out instead of a group of shifters and humans protecting a secret civilization. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around Stiles’ waist and press kisses to his cheek. Isaac makes a show of gagging at the public display of affection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott and Allison leave at some point to get food. With just Stiles and Lydia left as the only humans in the room, Derek realizes how witty the two of them are. They both have sharp tongues and a cynical attitude that makes Derek wonder how they became friends with Scott.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott and Allison return with bowls of stew after a few moments. Derek’s stomach rumbles at the smell. When he receives a bowl and brings a spoonful to his mouth, he almost cries. Each ingredient tasted more flavorful than anything he’s had before. The potatoes taste fresh and earthy, the spices are strong on his tongue, and meat is so tender that it falls apart in his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the bowls are empty and the sunlight outside the tent has disappeared, the atmosphere shifts. Their minds are all on the task at hand, which is to convince the council to support their batshit crazy plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek imagines Allison’s dad will be harder to convince than his daughter. Although, if Scott turns on his puppy eyes, maybe it’ll soften his opinion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group leaves Lydia’s tent to go to the council. As they walk, the humans bump shoulders, hold hands, or knock hips. Those little actions surprise Derek; he had thought being tactile was a shifter trait. Researchers who study human societies seemed pretty certain that humans were solitary, independent creatures. The thought makes him huff. Researchers also say humans are extinct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles knocks their shoulders together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry. Our plan will work, and you and your son and the rest of the pack will be safe,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head. He’s given up on convincing these humans that Isaac isn’t his son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they get to the council’s tent, Derek pulls Stiles inside before he can go inside. He takes a moment to cup Stiles’ face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re about to do something crazy,” Derek whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles smiles. “Haven’t we always been doing something crazy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek kisses him. It’s slow and unhurried. They’re pretending like they have all the time in the world. Stiles’ hands rest on Derek’s hips. His thumbs slip beneath Derek’s shirt. They trace slow circles across the surface of his hip bones. The touch sends small jolts of electricity blasting up and down Derek’s sides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they separate, Stiles is still smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speechless, huh?” Derek teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles shakes his head. “Just thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods, turning to look at the entrance to the tent. Time to face the music.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles stops him before he can step forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek,” he says, voice steady, “I swear to you, I’ll do everything in my power to protect your pack as if they were my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I love you,” Derek blurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles flushes. For once, the wolf has left him speechless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to say it back right now,” Derek says. He looks deep into Stiles’ eyes so the human knows that he means every word he’s saying. “You can tell me later, when all this is over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles nods his head. He reaches out to grab Derek’s hand and give a reassuring squeeze before leading the wolf into the tent.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Inside the tent, the mood is tense. The younger humans are standing in front of the council, their backs ramrod straight and faces serious. They look defiant. The older humans look the same, each of their faces twisted into matching frowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The council members’ eyes harden when they see Stiles and Derek’s linked hands. The intensity of their glares makes Derek want to drop Stiles’ hand, but the human tightens his grip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Son,” Stilinki says, his voice sounds like a warning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father,” Stiles replies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A brief silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve decided to act–” Stiles begins when none of the council members speak “–and we hope you’ll stand with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John, it’s time you stop coddling this boy. He walks in here and thinks he can order us about,” Councilman Argent spits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a god. I cannot </span>
  <em>
    <span>order</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. I am asking you,” Stiles corrects.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at Lydia. She lifts an eyebrow. He twists his lip. Through another series of small face movements and gestures, they somehow manage to have an entire conversation. Eventually, she nods her head and steps forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek leans forward, half expecting her to start talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He isn’t prepared for what happens when she opens her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wail emerges from her lips. It crawls out slowly then spreads to fill the room and seep out from under the fabric to wash over the whole camp and possibly the entire surrounding area. He isn’t sure when it transforms from a wail to an ear splitting scream, but it does. She’s screaming now. The sound tearing itself from her throat and squeezing Derek’s head. His lungs can’t expand. He can’t think. His vision starts to swim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia’s mouth clicks closed, and the sensations come to a screeching halt. Without the noise, the tent suddenly feels too quiet. Derek looks around and realizes that tears are streaming down everyone’s faces. He touches his own cheek, and is surprised that it’s wet. He wonders if everyone else can also feel an ache settling behind their rib cages.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Death is coming,” Lydia says, her voice hoarse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stilinski turns his puffy eyes onto Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s time we hear what the wolf has to say,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lets go of Stiles’ hand so he can step forward. He looks each council member in the eye, makes sure to give them the respect they deserve, but to also let them know that he’s also a leader, who’s willing to do what’s necessary to protect his pack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m asking you for your help. My family was murdered, and the people who’re responsible are coming here next,” he begins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tells them the entire story. He starts with Kate, the engagement, the fire, and then the unintentional messages Peter left for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finishes, he can see that Stilinski is already having a change of heart. The other two members don’t look as promising. Councilwoman Martin’s face is blank, and Argent’s mouth is twisted in a scowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a sad story, wolf, but I can’t risk our survival on a fight that’s none of our business,” Argent says. He looks at his daughter then at each of the other young humans that are standing in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not risking our species’ survival for a pack of wolves,” he adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This wolf and his pack might be the only thing ensuring our species’ survival,” Stiles shoots back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a silence as everyone digests Stiles’ statement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Council members,” Lydia says, voice soft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes shift to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember what the pages of the emissary book say. The Hale bloodline is what fuels the wards around this camp,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks at Derek. The next words out of her mouth are spoken directly to him, “I’ll fight with this wolf.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll fight as well,” Allison says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you willing to die for this wolf?” her father asks her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m willing to die if it means protecting our tribe from the outside world,” Scott declares.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shoots Stiles a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek watches the council members. He has no clue if they’re willing to put their trust in him the same way their children have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chris,” Councilwoman Martin says, “If what they’re saying is true, then our very survival is at risk. If the Hale pack dies, then the wards come down and a pack of wolves will be at our doorstep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our survival is already at risk. Last winter was harsh. There are less than a hundred fifty of us left. Only thirty are prepared for a fight like this, and you’re trying to send them straight into the belly of the beast.. Over a possibility,” Argent bites back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a lot to lose if you’re wrong,” Lydia’s mom says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if you’re wrong? The wards have been around for ages. I’m sure they’ll hold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia’s mom turns to Stilinski, looking for his input. The man fiddles with the straps on his cloak, eyes distant. After a moment, he takes a deep breath then looks at his son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe you when you say you trust this wolf,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He then looks at Derek. His gaze is heavy. It pins Derek to his spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe you when you say there are dangerous things in these woods.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stilisnki takes another breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we should send some warriors out,” he finishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes turn to Argent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I refuse to send our warriors to their deathbeds,” Argent says through clenched teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles deflates beside Derek. The alpha can see Lydia and Scott’s expressions shift as well. Allison’s remains blank, although her eyes haven’t left her father’s for the duration of the meeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We hear you,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns on his heel and stomps out of the tent. Derek follows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles, wait,” Stilisnki calls out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He emerges from the tent. For once, he doesn’t look like the composed leader of a tribe. He looks like a father, worried for his son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he reaches Stiles, he pulls the younger man in for a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the humans and Isaac emerge from the tent. They take one look at the Stilinskis, and start walking, giving the two men some privacy. Derek follows them, not wanting to intrude on the father son moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, he can’t help but use his werewolf hearing to listen in on the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad, we really need your help,” Stiles says. He sounds like he’s begging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With something this big, the decision needs to be unanimous. Look at them, you made sure everyone was in agreement with your plan before you came here, right? “ Stilisnki asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did,” Stiles says. He says something else to his dad in their native language. Stilisnki responds, his voice so low that Derek has to strain to hear it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I can’t believe how stubborn and headstrong you are. Gods, Stiles, you had to go out and pick a wolf,” Stilisnki jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles laughs. He says something else in his language then the two men part.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Stiles reunites with the group, his lips are set. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you guys ready?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re behind you,” Scott says. He looks genuinely wounded that Stiles wouldn’t automatically assume that everyone was ready to leap into a battle with a pack of werewolves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles looks at Allison. Her father was the one councilmemeber who had refused to budge from his position, and it was no secret how she felt about werewolves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If Lydia is going to fight, after what a wolf did to her earlier this year, then I’m also going to fight.” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia smiles. Somehow the expression looks ominous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get you and your lover ready for battle,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group returns to Lydia’s tent. Derek’s heart is pounding as Lydia guides him and Stiles into sitting positions on the floor. She mixes herbs and oils in a large, wooden bowl, and the smell that rises into the air is so otherworldly, it must be magic. Each new ingredient makes more hairs stand up on Derek’s arm, and by the time she’s finished making the concoction, the air in the room feels like it's vibrating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She passes the bowl to Stiles with a smile. “You draw better runes than I do,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles dips two fingers into the bowl. The liquid that clings to his fingertips is so dark that it hurts to look at. In his clean hand, he holds Derek’s arm out, then using the fingers with the liquid, he draws a symbol on Derek’s forearm. Once he completes the swirling pattern, he draws another symbol beneath it, one that’s more linear and jagged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek recognizes them as the runes that Stiles had on his arms when he would meet Derek in the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ink dries quickly, settling into his skin in a way that makes it look permanent. When Derek drags a finger across the surface of the runes, the ink refuses to budge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t smell you anymore,” Isaac says. His eyes are wide as saucers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles grins. He rolls his arm up and Lydia bends down to draw the runes onto his skin. Derek remembers what Stiles had said to him a while ago, that magic doesn’t work when you use it on yourself. Once the runes are complete, Stiles draws them onto Lydia’s skin, then the two of them go around the room painting them onto everyone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s disorienting for Derek, standing in a tent full of people and being unable to smell any of them or hear any of their heartbeats. If he closes his eyes, he could be convinced that he was completely alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon the bowl is empty, and everyone is sporting matching runes. They take a moment for the humans to slide their masks over their faces and check their weapons, then they head out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woods feel more ominous when they creep through them. They walk in a line, moving slowly so that their footsteps don’t make noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can feel when they pass through the wards. The air bends around them, tightening for a moment before relaxing in the same way a person would exhale after holding their breath for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the distance, Derek can hear Kate snarling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been a full day. Where is he?” she asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears her claws scrape against a tree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone sighs. Gerard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Patience is part of a good hunt. He’ll be back,” the older Argent says in the same casual voice that someone would discuss the weather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek guides the group in a wide arc around the two voices in the woods. He wonders how Kate and Allison would react if they knew that they were in the same woods as distant members of the same ancient bloodline. Two species, who share an ancestor that walked the earth hundreds of years ago. Derek wonders if there’s a human Hale living in that tribe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After what feels like a decade of walking, they reach the part of the preserve that leads onto an empty road. Derek kept them away from where had left his car, knowing that there would likely be someone watching it and that the sound of the engine would draw too much attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re here,” Derek announces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate and Gerard’s voices have faded away a while ago, but Derek keeps his own voice low just in case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you soon,” Stiles whispers to the other humans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott grabs Stiles’ arm. “Stay safe,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine,” Stiles responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two hug anyways, and once they part, Lydia and Allison step in so they can wrap Stiles in their arms as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lydia lifts her mask so that she can make eye contact with Derek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bring him home safe,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Derek promises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles pulls his own mask off of his face. He’s standing tall, like a true leader, but his hands still tremble when he hands the mask to Scott.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody speaks until he, Derek, and Isaac have the wood and humans behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll see them soon,” Isaac says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I will,” Stiles murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek reaches out to grab his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they reach Beacon Hills and town buildings rise up in front of them, Stiles gasps. His mouth drops open, and his head swings from side to side as he drinks everything in. When a car goes barreling by, he screeches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is what your life is like,” he exclaims.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is what we took from you, Derek thinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They go into Derek’s apartment through the back door, in case someone is watching the front. Stiles huffs as they climb all the steps, but when they emerge onto Derek’s floor and he sees the rows of doors, he’s back to feeling surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You live stacked on top of each other,” Stiles says, making it sound unappealing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they enter the loft, his mood shifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This place is huge,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushes past Derek so he can explore the living room. He bounces on the sofa, pokes at the TV, and flicks a couple light switches before settling near the window, his face pressed against the glass. His breath fogs up the window, and he leans back, his nose crinkling with amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re so high up right now,” Stiles whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek lives on the third floor,” Isaac scoffs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek hits the pup on the back of the head as he heads into the bedroom. Stiles is hot on his heels, vibrating with excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek,” he gasps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within seconds, he’s launching himself onto the bed, a moan slipping out of his mouth. Derek wishes the human were here under different circumstances. He images Stiles lying in his bed without the runes so that their scents could mingle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek can feel his face heating up. He focuses instead on grabbing a shirt and some pants from his dresser, and tries to ignore the moans coming from Stiles as he flops around on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this?” Stiles asks when Derek hands the clothes to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles holds up the shirt, black with the yellow Star Wars logo embossed on the front.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deaton’s office is closer to the center of town. If you’re walking around in furs, you’ll just draw attention to yourself,” Derek explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles shrugs. He sheds his clothes to put on Derek’s, and the wolf can’t help the way his mouth waters at the sight. Stiles is swimming in Derek’s clothes, but somehow he still looks impossibly good. He looks like the kind of guy Derek would hit on if they bumped into each other at a coffee shop or a bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac kicks in the door, breaking the fantasy that Derek’s imagining. The pup’s hands are held over his eyes as if he doesn’t want to see what’s happening in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you two wearing clothes? We don’t have time for you to have sex, there’s a fight going on,” He says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles huffs. “Open your eyes. We’re both dressed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac does. He grins when he sees what Stiles is wearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek, you own a Star Wars shirt?” He asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s from high school, and it’s the smallest shirt I own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek checks his watch. “C’mon, we need to get to Erica, Boyd, and Parrish.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Erica jumps into Derek’s arms when he steps inside the clinic. She’s crying, running her hands over his face and arms as if she’s not entirely sure that he’s there. When she’s satisfied that he’s safe and whole, she turns her attention to Isaac, who practically purrs when she pulls him into a rough hug. It takes her a moment to notice Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is this?” She says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd steps forward. “I’m guessing this is Derek’s secret boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sniffs the air then frowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t I smell any of you?” Boyd asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles curses, in that language of his before waving a hand over Isaac and Derek’s arms. The runes that have been etched onto their skin wavers for a second as if it’s flickering in and out of existence before it completely disappears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Parrish whispers, his eyes as wide as saucers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was that–” Boyd starts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Magic,” Deaton finishes. He’s looking at Stiles with interest now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a spark,” Stiles says, the lie that Derek told him to say when he meets with the pack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you must be Stiles. Derek says you have a plan to help us,” Deaton says. His voice sounds warm enough, but Derek still feels a little paranoid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles grins. “I do,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He explains the plan that he and Derek created, telling everyone their positions and how they’ll split up the Argents before picking them off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gerard likes to hunt in groups of five. Kate was very adamant about that,” Derek explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spend the rest of the night going over the plan until everyone can recite it from memory. Derek’s feeling confident about the situation, but Gerard and Kate are professionals. They’re going to need every advantage if they’re going to beat them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it hits midnight, the group starts to leave Deaton’s. The vet stops Derek on their way out, holding the alpha back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your mother would be proud of you,” Deaton says once the clinic is empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words make something inside of Derek ache. He’s spent so long trying to be the alpha that his mother was and that Laura never got to be, and now it’s disorienting to hear someone say he’s doing well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s survive the night before we hand out compliments,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deaton smiles.  He hands Derek a bag of purple powder. It’s held in plastic, but it’s still potent enough that it’s making Derek’s nose itch. Wolfsbane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought Stiles could use it,” Deaton says, that pleasant smile still on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek forces himself to return the smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll give it to him,” he mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he steps outside, he presses the powder into Stiles’ hand without a word. Stiles shoves it into his pocket. He doesn’t ask any questions, just flashes Derek a small smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they get to the woods, Boyd, Erica, Isaac and Parrish head south while Stiles and Derek head north towards the Hale house. On the way, they make a detour to collect the weapons that Stiles has hidden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they arrive at the house, they settle on the steps, waiting for the signal from the other group. Stiles' quiver is on his back, and he already has an arrow nocked and ready. Derek feels comforted by the wolfsbane that’s in Stiles’ pockets. If everything goes to shit, it can still keep Stiles safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek starts to feel himself growing restless. By now, Isaac should’ve left a trail for Gerard and Kate to follow, leading them to Boyd, Erica and Parrish. Meanwhile, Lydia, Allison and Scott should be driving the stragglers back to the house. If there are any others who are </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> wandering in the woods, well, Derek knows from experience that nothing draws a crowd like a fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alpha can almost breathe easier as his mind runs over the details of the plan. Whether he lives or dies, everything ends tonight. The thought soothes him just as much as it scares him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He allows himself a moment to press his thigh against Stiles’ and soak in the feeling of the human’s body pressed against his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A howl echoes through the air, breaking the calm atmosphere that had briefly settled over Derek and Stiles. The human looks up at Derek, worry on his face. Derek shakes his head. It isn’t one of his pack members.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The <em>poppoppop</em> of distant gunfire fills the air shortly after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in the trees rustles then–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles,” Derek yells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He manages to drag Stiles around the side of the house as a truck crashes through the trees. Lights flood the yard, and bullets come raining down, slamming into the side of the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s heart is hammering. There are seven people climbing out of the car. He doesn’t know how many have guns and how many prefer to use their claws. Derek holds up seven fingers in front of Stiles. The human nods his head, eyes flitting back and forth as he thinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Footsteps creep around the sides of the house. Derek and Stiles have nowhere to go except the woods. Derek grabs Stiles’ hand and tugs him forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere up ahead, Derek hears Kate howl then hears several other wolves join in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re outnumbered,” Derek huffs as he runs. He feels the urge to run in the direction of the howls but he forces himself to keep jogging beside Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The human is slapping his palm against every other tree they pass. Left. Right. Left. Right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind them, the footsteps are growing closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek swirls around, letting his beta shift wash over him. A wolf comes barreling through the woods. He looks half feral, eyes glowing a bright yellow and teeth dripping saliva. Derek’s about to swing his arm upwards, catching the shifter in the jaw, when Stiles claps his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A blast of fire erupts from between the trees. It licks at the shifter, crawling up his clothes and hair as if it's a living creature. Derek watches horrified as the shifter’s face twists into a look of horror before crumbling to ash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand gently touches Derek’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Laura?” Derek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Derek, we're not at the house right now,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek blinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In front of him, the fire is still burning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek, we need to get back to the house,” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek hears a pained yelp coming from the same direction he heard Kate’s howl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fire is going to spread,” Derek mumbles. His brain is jumping between the fire and Isaac’s pained yelp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fire is going to stay between the trees I’ve touched,” Stiles says, he’s starting to sound impatient. “Derek–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s another pained yell, and Derek’s focus shifts, dragging itself out of his memories and back to the present.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to find Isaac,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles hesitates. Derek can tell he’s wavering between giving into Derek’s wants and sticking to the plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We get Isaac then we get back to the house, okay?” Stiles says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Derek nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leads Stiles through the woods, heading closer to where he last heard Isaac. As they navigate through the trees, Derek hears another whimper from Isaac and a growl that reminds him of the deputy who killed Harris.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek puts on a burst of speed, crashing through the trees to find Issac and Boyd cornered between the deputy and another shifter. Isaac has a gash on his stomach that isn’t healing as quickly as Derek would like. Boyd is standing in front of the pup with his teeth bared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The deputy raises his gun, his finger already on the trigger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he can move, Stiles nocks an arrow and releases it. The arrow lodges itself in the deputy’s shoulder. The gun goes off, but the bullet sails into the trees far from Derek’s pack. The second shifter is so shocked by the arrow, he doesn’t notice the blast of purple wolfsbane until it’s in his face. He crumples to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the fuck are you?” The deputy asks. His wide eyes are fixed on Stiles, who’s managed to put his wolf mask back on the way over here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The deputy takes a long look at Stiles. The human is still in Derek’s clothes, but unlike the others who’ve shifted, he’s wielding a bow, an arrow and an array of knives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or what are–” The deputy’s sentence ends with a gurgle of blood, the crimson liquid gushing from a smiley-face wound across his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek looks at Boyd who wipes his claws on his jeans. He looks uneasy, but when he catches his alpha’s eyes, he sets his jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to find Erica,” Boyd says. “Shit is hitting the fan. Everyone’s been scattered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Scott and the others?” Stiles asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still near the wards I think,” Boyd responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles narrows his eyes. That isn’t part of the plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We expected Gerard and Kate to follow us, but they just sent these guys. They aren’t planning on moving away from those wards,” Boyd elaborates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles purses his lips. Derek can hear the gears turning inside his head as he processes that information.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They also have more shifters than we expected,” Derek adds, remembering the group that tried to ambush them at the house. Only one followed them into the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Erica?” Stiles asks, his hands are tugging at the wolf mask on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. We got separated and the preserve is huge. I have no clue where we would even start looking for them,” Boyd says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A howl echoes through the woods, too deep to belong to a werewolf. The sound sends a shiver down Derek’s spine, and he knows the howl is less about communication and is more of a warning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone turns to face the sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when they see it: a beacon of light so bright it lights up the night sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s stomach drops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The house,” he mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of them head towards the Hale house, Derek’s stomaching churning the whole way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logically, Derek knows setting his childhood home on fire had been part of the plan to lure everyone away from the wards. Still, nothing could’ve prepared him for the moment when he stepped out the trees and saw flames licking up the walls of the house. Smoke pours out of the window and loosened planks flutter down on the grass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air is so hot that Derek can feel himself starting to sweat. A couple of bodies are strewn across the grass, and a third one goes flying through the area, engulfed in flames so hot it’s nothing more than charred skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish stands in front of the doorway to the Hale house panting heavily, skin enveloped in flames and eyes glowing a bright orange. He opens his mouth and lets out a roar. It’s the same one they heard a few minutes when they were in the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shifters come bursting through the trees, holding guns and taking aim at the hellhound. There’s more gunfire, but the flames around Parrish are so hot, the bullets melt before they can make contact with his skin. Derek blinks and Parrish is moving, charging towards the shifters with guns. The alpha catches a glimpse of Erica, running behind Parrish and ready to back him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instinct takes over, and he takes off after his pack, knowing Boyd is behind him. He collides with a shifter, whose so busy focusing on the hellhound, he doesn’t notice an alpha is approaching him until Derek’s claws slice through the soft flesh of his belly. The shifter collapses and another one turns, mouth falling open as Derek swipes a hand across the back of his calf. His leg buckles, and Derek’s claws catch his throat next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him there’s a growl, and when Derek turns, a shifter is aiming a handgun at him. The shifter’s finger moves for the trigger, but before he can pull it, an arrow embeds itself in the back of his skull, the point bursting through his eye socket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The human is standing on the far end of the field, using his bow and arrows to pick off the opposing shifters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek turns his attention back to the fight. There’s only a couple of shifters left, and he and his pack manage to take them out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of it, they’re all nursing some wounds except Stiles, who managed to stay out of the thick of the battle. Erica has a black eye, Derek’s thigh has a slowly healing wound from someone’s wolfsbane tipped claws, Boyd and Isaac are liping, and Parrish has a bullet hole in his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t hurt?” Stiles asks. He uses the tip of a knife to point at Parrish’s wound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wolfsbane doesn’t impact hellhounds. You need silver for that,” Parrish responds. He tries to smile, but it looks more like a grimace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek picks his way through the bodies, using the toe of his boot to check their faces as he moves across the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kate isn’t here,” He says. He takes a moment to let loose a string of curses. Where the fuck is she?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think she’s still near the wards?” Isaac asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods his head. He knows that’s where she is, waiting for them to drop so she can slip inside and get her hands on the last bit of real magic left in the world. He can almost picture the way her eyes would be scanning the trees while she prowls back and forth. As much as he’s ashamed of it, Derek knows Kate extremely well. She and Gerard will stick to the trees. Their years of hunting have made them comfortable following unsuspecting prey, and leading them into well-laid traps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need them to come here if we’re going to end this,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles catches Derek’s eyes. “They want magic, right? Well, let’s give it to them,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He claps his hands together, and for a brief second, Derek swears he can see a small spark of lighting dance between the human’s fingertips. The smell of ozone fills the air, and Derek’s hair stands on end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not using you as bait,” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not bait. I’m a trap,” Stiles says, his eyes shining as if he’s laughing at some sort of inside joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shakes his head, panic clawing its way up his throat. Stiles’ easygoing confidence isn’t doing anything to soothe his nerves. If Kate and Gerard figure out Stiles can do magic, they’ll stop at nothing to have him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t lose you,” Derek insists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trust me,” Stiles responds, his voice unwavering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica’s hand lands on Derek’s shoulder. “Trust </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she says. “Stiles is pack. We’ll fight to the death for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words hit Derek like a fist to the gut. He knows what she’s saying. She recognizes how much Stiles means to her alpha, and she’s willing to lay her life on the line for him. Derek glances around at Boyd, Isaac, and Parrish. They have the same determined expressions on their faces, and Derek feels tears well up in his eyes when he realizes they’re all willing to lay their lives on the line for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles nods his head. His eyes flutter closed and tilts his head back, raising his hands to the sky, palms facing upwards. The air around him seems to grow hazy, crackling with life -- with magic. The wind inside the clearing picks up, stirring up dirt and leaves, until it’s so strong, Derek has to squint to prevent his eyes from tearing up. He wants to see how the others are reacting, but he can’t pull his eyes away from Stiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above them, heavy clouds roll in, blocking out the thin curve of the waning moon. Electricity dances its way down Derek’s spine until he’s sure his body is going to combust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles opens his eyes, and they’re glowing a bright white. Fat, heavy rain drops begin to fall, hitting the ground with so much force it sounds like someone is banging on a drum. The rest of Stiles’ body has begun to glow as well, and when he opens his mouth, his skin is glowing so brightly Derek has to look away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind his eyelids, he sees a burst of color and his heart momentarily stutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the light fades, and when Derek opens his eyes, Stiles is swaying on his feet, sweat forming on his forehead. He stumbles forward, and Derek is moving forward to catch him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might’ve done too much,” Stiles mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek helps the human to his feet, keeping a hand on his lower back to steady him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the distance, he can heart footsteps heading towards the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re coming,” Derek says. He blinks and his vision goes red.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A group of shifters barrel out of the trees. There are dozens of them, snarling and half shifted. Derek doesn’t wait for them to come closer, he makes sure Stiles is steady on his feet, then leaps forward. His claws and teeth tear through flesh, moving so quickly, he can’t even get a good look at his attackers before they’re crumpling to the ground.</p><p>Despite Derek’s ferocity, Kate and Gerard’s men outnumber them. Stiles is running out of arrows, and his other pack members are running on fumes, barely able to hold their own against the new shifters.</p><p>A familiar growl captures Derek’s attention, and when he turns, he sees Kate strolling across the blood-soaked field, her blue eyes locked on his. She’s shifted, her skin almost purple in the dark, with spots scattered across her face from her temple to her jaw. She’s equal parts beautiful and terrifying.</p><p>Derek finds himself responding to her low growl with one of his own. He can’t contain the rage he feels when he sees her, alive and healthy while his family rots beneath the earth. He lets the anger and hatred wash over him, and when he charges at her, his body ripples, abandoning his beta-shift and transforming into a full wolf.</p><p>His body collides with hers, and the two of them slam into the ground, both of them snapping at each other’s necks. For every scratch Derek manages to land, Kate gets two more on him.</p><p>Desperate to taste her blood, Derek uses his hind legs to roll them across the damp earth, and manages to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder. Beneath his jaws, a bone cracks.</p><p>The satisfaction that floods Derek’s heart, disappears when he hears Stiles’ pained cry. His eyes flicker over to the human, and Kate is quick to take advantage of his distraction, using her claws to tear open his underbelly. He howls, the paint slamming into him like a train.</p><p>Kate’s attention is already moving on, her gaze locking onto Stiles.</p><p>Derek staggers to his feet, desperate to keep her away from the human, but another shifter is already stepping between them. Derek braces himself for an attack, but the shifter is already falling, an arrow sticking out of her chest.</p><p>Allison steps out of the tree line, her bow and arrow raised as she starts picking off the shifters. Scott and Lydia join her, each one wearing a wolf mask. Scott leaps forward using his two curved blades to slice his way through shifters. Meanwhile Lydia joins Allison, using her own bow and arrows to help.</p><p>Despite the humans’ sudden appearance, things are looking bad. Boyd is unconscious, a gash on the side of his head, and Erica and Isaac are slowing down. Their bodies are covered in claw marks, and they look ready to collapse at any second. Parrish’s hellfire even looks duller.</p><p>Kate lunges for Stiles, and Derek rushes forward to meet her. She reaches the human before the alpha can get there, but Stiles moves quickly, using a blast of magic to send her flying backwards. Derek’s wide eyes scan over the human, double-checking to make sure he’s unarmed.</p><p>“Don’t worry about me,” Stiles says, he gestures to his feet, and Derek sees a circle of mountain ash.</p><p>Derek nods his head, turning just in time to see Erica gasp, as a shifter uses his claws to slice the back of her knee. She hits the ground hard, panting, and Derek’s barreling forward to catch the shifter before he can deliver a finishing blow.</p><p>He teeth clamp around the shifter’s neck, and he shakes his head, not stopping until he hears the shifter’s neck snap. Erica is bleeding heavily, too weak to stand on her own, and when Derek looks up, he sees Isaac in a similar position, pinned between two shifters. Parrish is also fighting off multiple shifters, managing to keep them at bay with his fire, but his movements are growing sluggish, and he yowls when one of them manages to slice the skin on the side of his neck. Kate is still moving near Stiles, her eyes warily focusing on his hands, trying to anticipate what he’ll do next with his magic.</p><p>Derek steps forward, unsure who needs his help more. </p><p>Before he can make up his mind, a wave of black wolf masks pour out of the trees. There are at least twenty of them, and Derek recognizes Allison’s father, leading the charge. </p><p>“Fascinating,” a gravelly voice says from behind Derek.</p><p>The alpha spins around, his eyes landing on Gerard, who’s leaning against a tree while watching the fight. He looks gleeful, his wide eyes tracking the movements of the humans like a child who stumbled upon a free bowl of candy.</p><p>Derek charges at him.</p><p>Gerard eyes the wolf with clear disinterest, as if he’s unbothered by the sight of an alpha werewolf running at him, and Derek can see why. Shifter after shifter launches themselves between Gerard and Derek, fighting to defend an old alpha, who can’t even be bothered to dirty his own hands. Derek’s anger propels him forward, and he cuts each one down without losing his breath.</p><p>When the last body hits the ground, Gerard pushes himself off the tree, a smile easing its way across his weathered face.</p><p>“I always found it impressive that Hale alphas could transform into full wolves. It’s a lost trait, something that was more common when magic was more abundant,” Gerard says.</p><p>Derek growls. He’s unable to speak, but his message is clear: get to the point, old man.</p><p>Gerard chuckles, and that’s when Derek notices the shifter’s skin is rippling, the muscles underneath shifting and sliding around. Derek can hear bones cracking and reforming, each break sounding more painful than the last. Gerard falls onto his hands and knees, a grotesque howl erupting from his lips, and Derek finds he can’t look away. He’s captivated by the disturbing image of Gerard’s body morphing into something that’s not quite wolf nor human. It’s as if the shifter’s body is stuck between a beta shift and wolf form. When Gerard lifts his massive head, Derek notices his eyes are glowing a disturbing, deep shade of blood red. His furry skin is stretched tight over the bones of his face and the crown of his head. Patches of flesh peak out at Derek as if Gerard is balding even in his not-quite wolf form.</p><p>Derek takes a step back, unsure if what he’s seeing is reality or a twisted nightmare come to life.</p><p>“There are ways to harness the small amount of magic left in this world,” his voice is distorted and hoarse as if he’s forcing the words out.</p><p>Fear oozes down Derek’s back, paralyzing him.</p><p>“This is what I’ve accomplished with my daughter’s spark. Imagine what I could do when I get my hands on real magic,” Gerard says.</p><p>He hurls himself at Derek, covering the distance between them with one long stride. It takes every ounce of Derek’s self-control to not whimper when Gerard’s body slams into his. Somehow, Derek manages to twist his body to avoid the older shifter’s massive claws.</p><p>Derek rolls from beneath Gerard’s hind leg, and swipes at the flesh, growling in satisfaction when he releases surprised yelp. Before Derek can dart away, Gerard slashes out at him, his massive paw knocking the wind from Derek’s lungs.</p><p>The force of the blow sends Derek crashing to the ground. Gerard’s other paw comes barreling towards him. Derek rolls sideways, and instead of gutting him, Gerard’s claws just scrape his side.</p><p>Adrenaline prevents Derek from feeling the pain and keeps him moving forwards. He can hear Erica growl and a yelp of pain from Kate, but he doesn’t dare turn his head to look. One distraction is all it’ll take for Gerard to kill him.</p><p>It’s already taking every one of Derek’s skills to avoid Gerard’s attacks. Each swipe of his claws just barely misses him, and Derek can see the older shifter’s anger growing the longer this fight goes on. Despite Gerard’s frustration, he’s still older, and Derek can already see him slowing down.</p><p>Gerard paws at Derek’s face, and the younger shifter rolls. He ducks beneath the massive paw, coming up on Gerard’s opposite side, and sinks his teeth in the shifter’s flank.</p><p>Gerard uses his other foot to kick Derek in the snout. The bone crunches, and pain blooms between Derek’s eyes. He staggers backwards, blinking furiously as blood drips onto the floor. Ahead of him, Gerard is limping away.</p><p>Derek fights through his own pain, and goes on the offensive. He tackles Gerard from behind, ripping and tearing into any exposed flesh. Each whimper and pant from the older shifter fuels Derek’s attacks. He wants to pay Gerard back for every ounce of pain he’s delivered to Derek’s family.</p><p>Sometime during the barrage of attacks Gerard has shifted back to his human form. The wounds on his papery skin are oozing black liquid, and he looks small and broken. He coughs, and more black liquid oozes from between his lips, coating his teeth and staining his tongue. His unnatural eyes catches Derek’s, and the hatred inside of them would’ve made a lesser wolf tremble.</p><p>Derek bares his teeth.</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Derek can see Kate is in a similar position. She’s on her knees with arrows sticking out of her stomach and shoulder. Claw marks form jagged lines down the side of her face.</p><p>Derek huffs, shaking his body out until he’s back on two feet.</p><p>“It’s over,” he says.</p><p>Gerard coughs up more of the black liquid, forcing himself into a sitting position.</p><p>“Kate,” Gerard barks his daughter’s name in the same way one might beckon an unruly dog. </p><p>She limps over dutifully, putting one hand on his arm and the other on his back so she can pull him to his feet. The look she sends Derek is just as icy as her father’s.</p><p>“You know, Der-bear–”</p><p>She doesn’t finish her sentence. A red line curves its way from the bottom of her right ear, down the curve of her neck, and back up to the bottom of her left ear. Blood bursts forth from the wound, spraying her shirt, the grass beneath her, and even Derek. Her eyes are still locked onto his, widened in a permanent look of shock as her mouth drops open to form an ‘o.’ Her jaw works itself for a brief moment, opening and closing as if it's trying to complete her sentence, but instead of words, blood gurgles out.</p><p>Derek stares horrified as Gerard tosses her body aside, his claws coated red from his daughter’s blood. He raises his wrinkled hand to his mouth, and his black tongue traces the curve of his pointer finger, lapping up the crimson liquid.</p><p>“Did you know killing pack members increases an alpha’s strength,” Gerard says, tone light.</p><p>The wounds on his body start to knit themselves closed. Normally wounds from an alpha take longer to heal, but by the time Gerard has sucked his finger clean, he looks uninjured.</p><p>“Don’t look so sad, Der-bear,” Gerard says, tone mocking. “It’s not as if the bitch truly gave a damn about either one of us.”</p><p>He lunges forward, and Derek careens backward, his momentum keeping him away from Gerard’s outstretched claws. He tries to roll to the side, but Gerard is anticipating the move. The older shifter’s teeth clamp down on Derek’s arm. He yowls, using his free hand to slash at Gerard’s eyes, but the shifter bats him away unbothered. With a sharp shake of his head, Gerard sends Derek crashing into a tree.</p><p>Gerard shifts again, his monstrous form barreling towards Lydia and Allison. The two of them are firing arrows at the shifter, but Gerard keeps running forward as if he can’t feel them.</p><p>He leaps through the air, claws stretching towards the girls and Lydia flings her own hands out, sending a circle of mountain ash around them. Gerard collides with the mountain ash barrier, and lands on his back hard. For a moment, his eyes roll to the back of his head, and Stiles leaps into action, leaving his own circle of mountain ash. Derek sees the familiar glint of a knife in the human’s hand and his stomach drops.</p><p>“Stiles, no.”</p><p>He moves forward trying to get between Gerard and Stiles, trying to stop the events that are already in motion.</p><p>Gerard is already climbing to his feet, his eyes locked onto Stiles’ approaching form. The two collide and the smell of blood explodes in the air.</p><p>Gerard howls in pain, a jagged gash splitting him from his left hip to his right shoulder. Derek can smell the wolfsbane from across the clearing and sees a familiar purple power on the wound. </p><p>Still, the wolfsbane hasn’t immobilized Gerard. The shifter raises his paw at the same Stiles raises his own shaky hand. The human’s palm glows for a second, but the light sputters out as Gerard slashes down.</p><p>Derek blinks and his hands are on Gerard’s face, palms pressed against the pointed tips of the shifter’s ears. His hands move without his command, and he hears a snap. He can hear Gerard’s body hit the ground, but he can’t process anything except StilesStilesStiles.</p><p>The human is lying on the ground, eyes staring up at the cloudy sky and hands pressed against his stomach where Gerard’s claws have pierced through the flesh. Blood flows between Stiles’ fingers, and when Derek looks at the human’s face, he notices his skin looks waxy and pale. If he was a shifter, his body would be healing, but he isn’t. He’s human and he’s dying.</p><p>“Stiles,” Derek chokes out.</p><p>He uses his left hand to press down on the gash and his other cups Stiles’ jaw. Black lines snake up Derek’s fingertips and travel up his arm until he’s the one feeling Gerard’s claws in his gut. Beneath him, Stiles’ body relaxes.</p><p>Lydia kneels beside Derek, her eyes focusing on Stiles’ face. She whispers something in their language, and Stiles’ eyes roll around his head as if he can hear her but can’t see her. She puts her hand on his forehead, and closes her eyes. Parrish limps over, his gaze glued to Lydia and his body jerking as if he’s a puppet on strings. His hand envelops hers, and together they howl.</p><p>The sound brings tears to Derek’s eyes, and he tries to find his voice through the panic that seems to be taking up a permanent residence inside his chest.</p><p>“Is he dying?”</p><p>Parrish opens his eyes, their orange glow seeming eerie now that the fighting is done.</p><p>“Not tonight,” he says.</p><p>“He needs a hospital,” Derek says. Beacon hospital isn’t far. If he runs –</p><p>“Can’t take a human to a shifter hospital,” Parrish murmurs.</p><p>Behind him, Derek can hear the group of humans approaching. Councilman Argent reaches them first with Allison by his side. Stiles’ father is behind them.</p><p>“Stiles is wounded,” Lydia says, voice low.</p><p>Councilman Stilinksi sucks in a breath when he sees his son. He falls to his knees, his fingers digging into Stiles’s wrist.</p><p>“His heartbeat is weak,” Councilman Stilinski whispers.</p><p>“He doesn’t die tonight,” Lydia says, repeating the same words Parrish said a few moments ago.</p><p>She and Councilman Stilinski lock eyes, and Derek can see something flutter between them. Hope.</p><p>Scott rushes forward shouting commands in their language. A couple of humans leap to follow him, and together they use massive branches and furs to create a makeshift gurney. They ease Stiles onto it while Scott uses a knife to cut away Stiles’ clothes.</p><p>The damage looks worse without tattered cloth covering it, but Scott doesn’t look bothered by the gruesome sight. He’s pouring some liquid onto it, to wash the blood away then bandages are being pressed into the skin.</p><p>“They’ll take him back to the village,” Lydia explains as the humans hustle Stiles back into the trees.</p><p>Derek steps forward ready to follow, but Lydia places a hand on his shoulder to stop him.</p><p>“Your pack needs their alpha,” she says.</p><p>Derek turns towards his wolves, leaning against each other and staring at Derek with wide eyes. When he looks back at Lydia, she’s smiling at him, and he thinks it’s the warmest she’s ever looked.</p><p>Her eyes flit to Parrish, “I hope we meet again,” she says, voice softer.</p><p>Parrish smiles, and then she’s off, linking arms with Allison and following the rest of the humans into the trees.</p><p>
  <span>When all the humans are gone, Derek turns back to his pack. Most of their wounds are already healed or healing, and it makes him think of Stiles, fragile and broken after one swipe of Gerard’s claws. His eyes are welling up with fresh tears, and Erica leans forward, tugging him into a hug as the first sob escapes his lips. Boyd joins the hug, one arm weakly wrapping around them, and Isaac squeezes in as well, somehow managing to wriggle his way between Erica and Derek. Parrish even lays a comforting hand on Derek’s shoulder, giving it a tight, reassuring squeeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow they all end up back at Derek’s loft, taking turns showering while he cooks spaghetti for them. When it’s his turn to shower, he hands the spatula off to Erica, trusting her to keep the sauce from burning while he slips into the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek cranks the water as hot as it’ll go, ignoring the way it stings at his skin and turns the flesh a raw shade of pink. He goes through the motions of washing his body, watching as Stiles’ blood runs down his skin, tinting the bathwater pink before swirling down the drain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek presses his forehead against the tile. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Stiles bleeding out on the ground, his eyes unable to even focus on Derek’s face. The alpha wonders if it’s the last image he’ll ever have of the human.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns his face into the water so it can wash away his tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he climbs out of the shower, he’s trembling. He dresses slowly, pulling on the first clothes he sees before padding back into the kitchen. Erica presses a bowl of pasta into his hands before digging her fingers into his scalp before brushing them along the shell of his ear then down his jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans into the touch, resting his forehead against hers and fighting down another sob.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you feeling?” Boyd asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek laughs, and it sounds bitter and broken. “Don’t fall in love with a human,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Der,” Erica breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek leans back, drinking in the warmth of his pack and trying to let their bond soothe his aching heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever happens we’re here for you,” Parrish says. “I know I’m not pack, but–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are pack,” Derek interrupts the hellhound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parrish’s mouth hangs open for a second, then he smiles nodding his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek thinks back to the night of the fire. Before all hell broke loose, it was a pleasant evening. He and his sisters and his cousins piled on the sofa watching a movie while his parents, aunts, and uncles chatted in the kitchen. He remembers the feeling of contentment that settled deep in his bones, and the way Laura promised to sneak out the house with him for a swim after everyone went to sleep, just like old times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The past few months have been hell for him, but being in his loft and eating a meal with his pack, he feels like he can finally move forward.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Derek sits on the back porch of his new house, a cigarette balanced between his lips. He flicks his lighter, and immediately Boyd is on his case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you quit,” he yells from across the backyard. The grill is open in front of him, but he’s paying no attention to the ribs and is instead giving Derek his most disappointed look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erica steps out of the house’s backdoor, balancing four bags of chips, and a container of salsa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you smoking again?” She asks. She pretends to make a grab for the cigarette, and Derek leans back so her fingers close around thin air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Old habits die hard,” Derek retorts, sucking in a lungful of smoke before stubbing out the cigarette against the banister. He’ll regret it tomorrow when he’s scrubbing out the ash stain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, he focuses on helping Erica carry the food over to the picnic table. He feels lighter having them out here during a summer barbecue. Erica insisted he host this makeshift party to celebrate the demolition of the old Hale house and the construction of this new one on the opposite end of the preserve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On their way to the table, Derek grabs a beer out the cooler. He uses his teeth to pop the lid off while dropping the bags of chips on the table. He sees Erica pause on her way over to kiss Boyd’s cheek, and he smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isaac and Parrish step out of the woods, sweaty and out of breath. Isaac has a pout on his face, but Derek can tell he’s forcing the expression so Parrish won’t see his smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you keep beating me?” Isaac complains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup flops down beside Derek, his body sprawling out across the seat. He sniffs the air twice before wrinkling his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you quit smoking?” he asks his alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek shrugs reaching over to flick his nose just to watch the pup recoil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, stop that,” he says, swatting at Derek’s hands. Derek does it again just because, earning himself an eye roll from Erica when she walks over to see what all the fuss is about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop messing with him,” she says. She kicks Derek’s leg as she sits down, and he flashes her an innocent smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boyd makes his way over a few moments later, balancing a massive plate of ribs and another plate of grilled corn. They waste no time digging into the food. Every now and then they’ll brush against one another or nudge one another. Isaac spends most of the meal complaining about homework, and Parrish offers him some advice Derek knows the pup will ignore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After dinner, they wind up in Derek’s living room, watching the same romantic comedy Erica always picks out. Isaac falls asleep on the sofa five minutes into the movie, taking up so much space Derek and Parrish are forced to sit on the floor while Erica and Boyd squeeze onto the loveseat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek watches the move without really absorbing it. He’s focused more on watching the waxing moon through the living room window as it makes its slow ascent through the night sky. Eventually, Parrish, Boyd, and Erica leave, taking plates of leftovers with them. Derek walks them out to the door then forces Isaac into bed before settling on the sofa to turn on another movie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hasn’t even noticed he’s fallen asleep until a quiet knock has him lurching awake. He blinks blearily for a few moments, struggling to focus on his surroundings through the haze of sleep and the soft-blue light of the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knock comes again, louder this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s ear tunes into Isaac’s bedroom. The pup is still asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns his focus to the backdoor where there’s a heartbeat, loud, fast and familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek stumbles forward, almost tripping over his feet to get to the door. He yanks it open, unable to stop his grin when he sees a familiar face in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Stiles breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Derek responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tugs Stiles forward, burying his face in the crook of his neck so he can press his lips against Stiles’ pulse point. The human’s heartbeat is strong and sturdy. Stiles melts into the embrace, his hands slipping underneath Derek’s shirt so his palms can press against the alpha’s lower back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Derek murmurs. He inhales, relishing the dizzying smell of ozone that rushes into his nostrils.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were going to ...” Derek’s voice trails off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lydia told you I wasn’t going to die,” Stiles murmurs, voice low.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek lifts his head, cradling Stiles’ face so he can look into his amber eyes. “I was scared anyway. Then I thought maybe you didn’t want to see me after what happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles narrows his eyes. “I always want to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What took you so long?” Derek asks. It’s been nearly a month, he wants to say, but he bites back the comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Humans take a while to heal.” Stiles responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek nods, pulling away from Stiles so he can lead the human into the living room. They collapse onto the sofa, Stiles curling around Derek as if he was made to live in the wolf’s embrace. Derek’s hands ghost beneath Stiles’ furs, and he stills when he feels the jagged scars on the human’s stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Derek says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He buries his nose in Stiles’ hair. He kisses the back of his head, his neck, his earlobe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles turns his head so Derek’s next kiss lands on his lips. His hands tangle themselves in Derek’s hair, pulling the wolf forward so he can slip his tongue between Derek’s lips. Derek groans, moving Stiles so he’s straddling Derek’s lap. His fingers are running all along Stiles’ skin, ghosting along his legs and arms and back, enjoying the way he leaves goosebumps in his wake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It isn’t long until their shedding clothes, each of them desperate to get closer. Derek is gentle, laying Stiles down and touching him softly until he’s weeping into the sofa, legs shaking beneath the wolf. When Derek finally slides into the human, he can see stars dancing behind his eyelids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hours later when they’re both boneless and sweaty, Derek carries Stiles into the bedroom. He feels lightheaded and giddy when the human curls into the mattress, his scent sinking into the pillows and sheets until it’s completely mingled with Derek’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek buries his nose in Stiles’ neck and sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of Isaac stomping down the stairs at the crack of dawn yanks Derek from his slumber. He groans, rolling over, and burying his face into the warm body beside his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your son is awake,” Stiles says, fingers twirling a lock of Derek’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can hear him,” Derek whines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Downstairs, Isaac enters the living room, and Derek hears him gag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gross, how many times did you guys have sex in here?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Excited to have y'all ready this work I've been creating for a while now.<br/>I'm Stiles-Hale on tumblr so feel free to say hi over there if you want to chat :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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